


Circle of Darkness, Circle of Light

by Greysgate



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Daniel as a Goa'uld, Epic Danny Whumping, F/M, Team as Family, beginning to end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 252,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysgate/pseuds/Greysgate
Summary: Daniel has had enough of Jack's attitude, and takes the first opportunity he gets to get away from his CO to work on a new off-world research project. His partner, a Tok'ra archaeologist, begins to change his prejudices as they work together on an enigmatic ancient temple. But then the Goa'uld come to ravage the dig site, and Daniel begins an epic journey back to where the Goa'uld first learned to be gods, all the way to the end where the lives of everyone on Earth hangs in the balance.





	1. Sleeping Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was started in 2002, almost finished, and then left to languish for 16 years. Re-reading my old fics to get them posted on AOOO inspired me to complete it, and I think it's one hell of a journey, one I'd like to have seen on the screen.  
> Reference Season 6 for the approximate timeline.  
> This was also the *one* fic I wrote where I wanted everyone to have a solid relationship -- outside the team -- so there are new characters introduced specifically for them to couple up with. Poor Teal'c, however, doesn't get any because he's still married to and separated from his lovely wife. GO, T!  
> This story is dedicated to Sara, who dragged me kicking and screaming into this fandom in the first place, and I’ve never regretted it. She asked me the question once, “What if Daniel fell in love with a Tok’ra?” and this is the result. This was a pleasure to write with you, Blue Cove. You rock!  
> I also cast the new characters in my head with an unlimited budget (hee hee) so the guest parts will be played by:  
> Valerie Bertinelli as Reyenne/Kirin -- Veronica Hamel as Dr. S. Logan -- Karen Gillan as Shannon Murphy (yes, I know she's Scottish, not Irish) -- Dame Judy Dench as Ysmin -- Alan Rickman (RIP, you beautiful man!) as Sanshe'er -- Michael T. Weiss as Dr. Adam Romani.  
> Please also note that this story is VERY hard to read in places due to violence and emotional content. If it were hard for ME to read it, I can imagine it would be difficult for others who don't know what's coming. Buckle your seat belts and be warned!

**PROLOGUE  
**

**In the Beginning...**

Taweret stepped carefully down the stairs, not wanting to disturb the sculptor at work.  The statue was nearly finished, and while the being carved into stone looked quite strange to her, she knew the Furling’s vision was accurate. 

After all, Lord Hu had seen the One with his own eyes, kneeling on the battlefield. 

She paused in the shadows, gazing up at the bright light shining overhead through the translucent webs between her fingers.  The machine was almost finished, but no one knew if it would be completed in time.  Even the prophets were unsure, and that did not bode well for anyone. 

The future of all sentient beings hung in the balance, though the death knell had already sounded for Taweret’s race, the Tejennans. 

“Is that you, little one?”  Lord Hu’s deep, rumbling voice crossed the space in the big room easily and rippled pleasantly over her skin. 

“Yes, master,” she answered quickly, and crossed the smooth metal floor toward him. Only the light patter of her bare feet gave any indication of her approach. 

The giant straightened, hammer and chisel in hand, and favored her with a warm smile. 

She craned her neck to meet his gaze, but could not smile back. There was too much grief and fear in her soul.

His black, star-filled eyes were sad. 

“I am not your master, Taweret,” he corrected gently, switching the chisel to his right hand so he could stroke her hair with his left.  “I am your friend.” 

She nodded, relishing his concern for a moment. Then she stepped back to study at the sculpture.  Her eyes traveled from the massive face down the left arm toward the floor.  She was struck by the rough patch newly carved into the forearms on both sides, just above the wrist. 

“You have damaged it!” she blurted in surprise, reaching out to stroke the disfigured spot. 

He shook his head.  “No.  It was a detail I missed earlier.  I have studied the recording and made this correction, so that he will know without doubt that destiny has chosen him.  Tell your people they may begin painting it.” 

“You are finished, then?” Her stomach twisted up into knots. That meant there was little time left. Days, perhaps. 

“Yes.”  He squatted down beside her, still stroking her hair.  “It is a pity your people will not be there to see how his story ends.” 

Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks with no attempt to hold them back.  She nodded in agreement.  “Yes, my friend, but it is fitting punishment, for it was we who brought about this disaster in the first place.” 

“Through no evil intention of your own,” he added, his voice gentle, filled with compassion.  “The Tejennans were to be the Fifth Race.  Your science was matched by the purity of your hearts, and when the Goa’uld came through the _chaapa’ai,_ you welcomed them, innocent of their evil.  It was _they_ who stole your machines and misused them.  The Tejennans are not at fault.” 

She shook her head, fierce pride fighting the overwhelming sadness and winning, but only for an instant.  “We understood the duality of nature, Lord Hu,” she argued gently, gazing into his great, dark eyes.  “The sarcophagus can heal, but it will corrupt the healthy.  The ribbon device was made to share thoughts and emotions, but it can also be used as a powerful weapon.  Every piece of technology we shared so easily the Goa’uld has been used as we most feared, because we trusted too implicitly, and were too easily deceived.  It is fitting that we be destroyed by those who now call themselves gods, all because of the gifts we gave them.” 

“Will the Temple of Light and Shadow be ready?” He pulled her into his arms and held her gently against him. 

Taweret loved the feel of him. He was so large he enveloped her completely, yet was so tender that he never hurt her. If she had the choice, she would have preferred to die in his arms. 

But that was not her fate. 

“Soon, the scientists say.  Days, perhaps.  Long enough for our travelers to return home.” 

“You will leave no survivors on other worlds, to carry on your culture, your race?” Lord Hu’s deep voice rumbled through her bones. His grief was palpable. 

“Only _I_ am to survive,” she sniffed, her voice cracking with emotion.  “The prophets have seen it.” 

The Furling pulled back a little. He wiped her face with the lightest touch, using his thumb.  “Your species lives almost as long as mine,” Hu reminded her.  “Perhaps you may yet bear witness—“ 

She shook her head, remembering what the seer had told her.  “No, my lord.  I will die young… but I will be mother to a new race, after a fashion.” 

Taweret met his gaze without a shred of self-doubt or pity.  “Ra returns once more, before he destroys this world.  You _must_ be gone before he arrives.  That is what I have come to tell you.” 

He cradled her face in his big hand and smiled at her.  “The statue is completed, so I will go today.  Your people will paint it, and set up the scanner to identify the One.”  

He rose to his full height, dwarfing the Tejennan woman, and studied her fondly.  “It will be the last glory of your people, Taweret.  Be _proud_ of who and what you are. My people… we will remember you.” 

She offered the sweeping bow of honor to him, and followed him up the stairs into the sunlight. 

The sound of fountains was everywhere, watercourses trickling alongside every path. 

Tejennans loved the water and still had vestigial webbing between their fingers and toes, though their gills had evolved away long ago.  Their evolutionary journey, as amazing as it had been, was about to be over in a matter of days… perhaps even hours. 

Taweret walked with Lord Hu to the _chaapa’ai_ and dialed home for him. 

With a final embrace, she saw him off, and waited.  

For a long time she stood at attention in the sun, but eventually her patience was rewarded and the chevrons lit up as the doorway between worlds opened again. 

She recognized the heavily built, armored shape of Ra’s Unas host immediately and bowed in greeting. 

“Taweret,” he called with his gravelly voice.  “Attend me.” 

“It will be my honor,” she answered quietly, keeping her gaze downcast, watching her toes roll along the path.  “My father offers me to you as a gift from the Tejennans.  We hope you will accept.” 

Ra’s eyes glittered as he studied her. “Yesssss,” he hissed. “You will make an excellent servant in my court.  All who see you will be enchanted by your beauty.” 

He reached out and touched her shoulder, smoothing down her satin skin with his scaly fingers.  “So smooth. So pale.  I will give you to a young queen, just now maturing, as her handmaiden.” 

Taweret did not meet his eyes.  “Will she need a host, my lord?” 

He cocked his head and studied her.  “I have selected one for her already.  You would offer yourself willingly?” 

_Willing_ , she thought, disgust roiling through her. _She would never be willing, but this was her fate. Taweret accepted that. Her role was important, and this was vital._

She dropped to one knee and pressed her right hand to her chest, her left against the ground, giving every appearance that she felt honored to be considered as a host, special to have caught his eye.  

Bowing her head, she adopted the pose of the great statue that Ra would never see, the symbol of Tejennan repentance for their sins. 

“I would give myself gladly to your queen, my Lord Ra.  It would ensure a lasting bond between our people.” 

He bent down just enough to catch her under the chin with his fingers, then lifted to make her stand and meet his yellow gaze.  “You please me, Taweret,” he murmured huskily, his voice deepening with desire.  “One day, when Ejeria is ready to spawn, you and I will mate…”

Ra smiled, revealing rows of sharp, filthy teeth. 

She did not show her revulsion at that thought.  Instead, she inclined her head gracefully. 

“Whatever Ra wishes,” she said softly, and accompanied him to her father’s house for the last time. 

* * *

 

The _ha’tak_ entered Tejennan space without engaging the shields, because their guest’s appearance was recognized and expected.  This was Ra’s final treachery, a way to prevent tearing down of his image as a god. On his last visit to this world, the Goa’uld had taken a princess who would become his queen, promising to return with gifts to the people who had given him so much without question. 

That had giventhe Tejennans time to finish the great machine, their most magnificent creation. 

Now he had returned to destroy them. 

All was in readiness. Fountains had been shut down and drained, the water given its freedom to choose its own path.   Last rites had been given to the people. Many gathered in the streets, hands linked together, voices lifted in song as the end came.  Others sat at home in their houses with their families about them

No one ran as fire rained down from the sky, toppling buildings with the force of the Goa’uld weaponry.  In the space of a few hours, the last of the Tejennans lay dying in the dust, his eyes turned to the city square. 

Three of the braziers that had been burning with sacred fire lay on their sides, only one still standing, still alight.  There would be no one to feed the flame now, and soon it, too, would die.  It would mark the place where the light would shine once more, and the One would look into his own face and understand the Tejennan legacy. 

Their debt was paid, and as those violet eyes closed for the last time, the Tejennans rested in peace, all but the last.  Taweret’s journey was just beginning, and her small, slender hand would also help shape the future.  All roads would lead back to that dead world, in time. 

The prophets had seen it, and the Furlings had confirmed it. 

But now, the universe would suffer for eons, because the Tejennans had erred on a cosmic scale. 

* * *

 

**Part I**

_**Sleeping Dogs** _

**April 2002 on the Tau’ri calendar**

**Siraket**

The _chaapa’ai_ opened, its watery surface broken by a solitary figure.  The woman was small and slender, her face serene beneath a shock of what was more grass than hair.  She had never seen this place before, but she remembered it well. 

Lya stepped down to the grass at the base of the machine, digging her toes into the cool green life, and sighed.  In the distance she saw the mountain rising up above a deserted valley.  The statue lay half buried in the earth, its face unrecognizable.  The doorway that should have been beside it was gone, another carved into the slope in the wrong place.  She shook her head and frowned at the intrusion, then turned and scanned the landscape for the others she had come to meet. 

“Welcome, sister,” called a high-pitched voice from the nearby trees.  A tiny gray Being with large, slanted obsidian eyes walked carefully toward her, its left hand raised in greeting. 

She smiled.  “Greetings, Odin.  Has our brother arrived?” 

The air shimmered beside her, and a deep, soft voice chuckled.  “I have been patient, Lya.  This is a beautiful place in which to wait.”  The Furling squatted down to her height and embraced her fondly.  “My mate waits for us inside.” 

Her smile of welcome faded as she pulled out of his arms.  “The Goa’uld are coming.”  She glanced over her shoulder at the new entrance to the chamber.  “They have already been here, and that is a terrible thing.” 

“Foretold,” the Furling assured her calmly.  “All is proceeding as we have seen.  The Mandanu will soon be born.” 

She beamed up at the tall creature.  “Yes.  I have met him.” 

“Pity the birth will be so difficult,” Odin observed as they all fell in step, crossing the little stream and moving toward the temple. 

“Birth is always painful,” Lya agreed.  She looked thoughtfully up at the Furling.  “Your people have not seen the ending?  What will become of the Tau’ri?” 

The Being bowed its head, contemplating.  “We have ceased our journeys in time, Lady Nox.  We know only that the Mandanu will be born here, to weigh the sins of the adversaries after the final battle is over. We know when it will begin, but chose not to see the end.  Some things are best left uncertain.” 

“They were equal?” asked Odin.  “Neither had the advantage of the other?” 

The Furling smiled.  “There are always advantages.  Nothing is ever completely balanced, my old friend, even though we strive for it always.” 

Odin nodded.  They stepped into the temple entrance, out of the bright, hot sunlight into the cool, dark interior. 

The Asgard chieftain sighed.  “So it begins.  The cost will be high.  Many lives will be lost, of many races.” 

“We cannot change that,” Lya reminded him, a trace of sadness in her voice.  “Though we have the power, we do not have the _right_ to interfere.” 

A small insect fluttered into the structure, and settled in the last of the light on her upraised hand.  She smiled as she regarded the tiny life. 

With a gentle breath, she dislodged it, thinking how like that the Goa’uld and Tau’ri were: so innocent, so young; hardly aware of themselves at all. 

They were two sides of the same leaf, one bright and raised to the sun, the other dark and secretive, hidden in the shadows.  The Tau’ri had strengths the Goa’uld did not.  The Goa’uld had superior weapons and technology.  The struggle was theirs alone, as equals – heart over mind, soul over ego. 

“Do you think the Ancients will return?” asked Odin, moving into the dark passageway. 

Lya shook her head and strolled in after the Asgard.  “They have been long at peace, in their separate place.  The time comes when chaos reigns here.  It will be exciting.” 

She glanced at her gray companion.  “I am sure there will be some who tire of the monotony of constant bliss, and wish to experience what excitement the times have to offer.” 

The Furling laughed, a deep, velvet sound.  “Peace is boring,” he agreed gaily.  “One can only stand so much of it.” 

“Is that why your people so enjoy watching the Tau’ri?” Lya teased. 

Crouching down to fit into the passageway, the Furling nodded.  “It is.  Those of us who walk unseen among them find a never-ending source of entertainment.  We wonder.  We laugh.  We weep for them.” 

The trio walked on for a time, until they reached the room they sought. 

In a flash of light, they disappeared, and the temple grew dark and silent in their wake. 

Some hours later, the trio returned, exiting to the green landscape now fading into twilight. 

Lya approached the _chaapa’ai_ and brought it to life with a graceful wave of her hand. 

Odin activated a transport device and went up to the ship in orbit around the planet, and the Furling turned away from the meeting place, gazing out to sea. 

He shook his head, remembering the events to come. 

The first visitors would be arriving soon, setting up camp with the nomads who would discover this place tomorrow morning. 

His heart ached for those who would die, but the future was already in motion, streaming past him as he ambled into the woods. 

As he strolled, his body grew lighter, translucent, transparent, and finally, completely invisible. 

No one would see him as he watched, moving among the players in this tragedy. 

Not until the time was right.

Soon, he would take great pleasure in introducing himself to the Mandanu, the embodiment of good and evil, the best and the worst of his kind. 

Everything rested in his hands, and it remained to be seen whether good or evil would win, when the choice was _entirely_ his. 

* * *

**August 10, 2002**

**Earth – SGC Facility**

Jack carried his breakfast tray to one of the small tables in the corner of the commissary, and Carter and Teal’c sat down with him. 

An unfamiliar scent hit his olfactory nerves just as he lifted his first forkful of eggs to his mouth, and he recoiled. 

“Oh, what is that _smell?”_ O’Neill demanded, glancing around.  “What died, and why did they bring it in here, where people eat?” 

Carter grinned and nodded toward a long table that had been set up in the back of the big room.  “That’s SGC Squared’s monthly get-together,” she explained.  “They decided to make it a breakfast meeting, and everybody brought a dish of their favorite off-world recipes.  General Hammond okayed it.” 

She picked up her English muffin slathered with strawberry cream cheese and took a hearty bite. 

Jack couldn’t help the look of disgust on his face.  He yelled over at the group with a glare.  “Hey, people are tryin’ to eat here!” 

Daniel stood up at the far end of the table.  “You’re welcomed to come and join us,” he returned with a faint smile.  “Tastes like chicken…  Some of it does, anyway.”  

He shrugged at the frown he received and sat back down. 

“There goes my appetite,” the Colonel grumbled, picking up his coffee cup instead.  “What’s ‘SGC Squared’, anyway, and why haven’t I heard about it?” 

“It is an informal organization within Stargate Command.  They call themselves the Super Geeks Club.” 

Teal’c leveled him with a meaningful gaze.  “It was DoctorLogan’s idea, to bring the academic community within our ranks together.” 

“Yeah, they share recipes, anecdotes, stuff like that.  Kind of a bonding thing,” Sam added.  She looked fondly over her shoulder at the man at the head of the table.  “They all look up to Daniel, like he’s some sort of—“ 

“King of the Geeks?” Jack finished for her, unable to hide the irritation in his voice.  “So what’s the significance of SGC Squared?  I don’t get it.” 

“SGC for Star Gate Command, and also for Super Geeks Club.  So it’s SGC with the little superscript number two, you know?”  She drew the digit in the air with her finger. 

“Oh.”  Jack stared at her, remembering that she, too, was a scientist.  “So why aren’t _you_ hangin’ with ‘em, Carter?” 

She gave a lopsided smile and shook her head.  “I tried a couple of meetings, but I just don’t speak their language.” 

“You mean, Dweeb?” 

“No.  I mean, English, a little French and math are the only languages I have even a _hope_ of understanding.  You sit at _that_ table, and there’s a guy on your left switching between ancient Egyptian and Latin, talking to the gal across from him who’s firing back in Russian and Mayan, and it…  It just made my brain hurt, Sir.” 

She glanced back at the group again as a ripple of laughter flowed from one end of the table to the other.  “But _Daniel_ gets it.  He speaks more languages than anybody else there.” 

Sam paused and turned back to the Colonel.  “He’s their hero as well as their boss.  They all look up to him, because he’s the very best at what he does.  If they’ve got a question, they see him.  He runs their part of the program, and that’s a pretty extensive undertaking.”  She glanced at Teal’c, who nodded in agreement of her assessment. 

Jack didn’t miss the unspoken message passing between them.  “Is this some sort of conspiracy, Major?  You guys make this appointment with me for a reason?  Cause I’m starting to smell something besides the breakfast from hell, here.” 

“We wanted you to _see_ that, Sir,” Sam told him, nodding toward the table.  “We wanted you to understand that Daniel’s important to SGC for more than just because he’s on the flagship team.” 

“I know that,” he shot back irritably.  “He’s the best.  That’s why he’s _on_ our team.” 

“But you still don’t respect him, do you?” 

There it was, out in the open at last.  He watched her study her muffin and take another bite, those big blue eyes wandering all over her tray, to Teal’c, and finally back to him for a response. 

“I don’t like what he does,” Jack told her honestly.  “I don’t _get_ what he does, but I _do_ respect that he’s good at it.” 

That didn’t seem to sit to well with Carter. 

“We wouldn’t have made the ‘gate work without him,” she reminded her CO.  “He’s saved our asses more times than I can count, by doing what he does.  He’s negotiated us out of a lot of rough spots that could’ve left us bloody.  He’s figured out things that nobody else understood, that made an impact on our research.  Doesn’t that mean _anything_ to you, sir?” 

Sam’s plea was so impassioned, so sincere, that he knew there was way more behind it. 

“Yes,” Jack answered quietly.  “It means a lot.  Just because he does things differently than I would doesn’t mean he’s wrong.” 

She nodded and shook her head, turning back to her food and adjusting the angle of the muffin on her plate.  “I know.  But I wasn’t sure you got all that.” 

Teal’c, who had been finishing his light breakfast of toast, water and a huge pile of fruit, crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. 

He glanced pointedly at the other table.  “I have often wondered how DanielJackson came to be so wise, for one so young.” 

_“Et tu,_ Teal’c?” asked Jack softly. 

The Jaffa just stared at him, one eyebrow arched in question, mouth pulled down in an epic frown. 

“You, too, buddy?”  Jack repeated in English. 

The alien ignored the question and went on.  “I am far older than any of you, and it has been my experience that great wisdom comes most often with great pain, rather than advanced age.  I have seen many who are old and have no wisdom.” 

Jack felt like they were ganging up on him, and still didn’t know what the point of the whole ambush was.  “Yeah.  So?  Daniel’s been through a lot.  We all have.” 

“How well do you know him, sir?” Carter asked.  Her hands were in her lap now, her food completely ignored.  Those eyes of hers bored into him, intent on pinning him to the wall. 

Jack started to fidget.  “We’ve worked together for, what, five, six years?  I like to think I know what’s important.” 

“How many foster homes did he have?” she shot back, her eyes challenging. 

“I don’t know.” Jack frowned at her, starting to get a little pissed off.  “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Four, in eight years,” Sam returned.  “When did he graduate high school?” 

“When he _finished_ it.”  Jack was starting to get seriously irritated by this inquisition. 

“When he was sixteen,” Sam answered.  “He received a full scholarship to Brown University and received his first doctorate when he was only twenty.  He’s got _three_ of them, by the way.  For a time, he was considered one of the best minds in his field.  We here at SGC know that he still deserves that distinction.” 

“So?  You guys talk more about the stuff that doesn’t matter,” Jack argued.  “I don’t do that _‘This Is Your Life’_ thing because I don’t _care_ what his third grade teacher’s name was.  I _know_ Daniel.  Let’s let that stand on its own, shall we?” 

He left the table, not bothering to put up his tray.  Before he could get to his office for a little peace and quiet, Sam had caught up to him again.  He shrugged her off when she touched his arm to get him to stop walking. 

“Sir, we’re worried that part of the problem between you and Daniel might have something to do with the fact that he’s not getting the respect he deserves.  We just want you to think about that, because it affects all of us.  Your relationship with Daniel affects the _team_.” 

She paused, shrinking back a little from his fierce glare.  “Sir.” 

He glowered over her.  “I didn’t know how many foster homes he had, because it’s not important,” he growled back at her softly.  “But I _do_ know why he was removed from the first one.  Do you?” 

She seemed a little startled.  “Uh, no.  He never talked about that.” 

“Didn’t think so.  And he knows I’ll never _tell_ anybody, either.  You want the story, you have to ask him.  Or wait for him to tell you.  Which could be… never.” 

Jack remembered that particular even with such clarity it almost hurt to breathe.  They’d been on a mission, captured and waiting to die.  Daniel had chosen that moment to cleanse his soul, and confessed what his foster father had done to him when he was such a young, vulnerable child, still reeling from his parents’ death.  The psychological damage the abuse caused lasted until college, when he’d finally come to terms with it and put it behind him, but he had told no one, aside from the shrinks assigned by the state during his remaining years in foster care, and Jack had promised him that no one else would ever know. 

That was the thing with himself and Daniel.  They had a way of getting to each other’s deepest, most private places.  They could wound each other more deeply as well.  Things had begun to fall apart between them after the incident with the android, Reese, but maybe this was a sign that the team needed to evolve still more. 

When Jack had been a boy, his mom had served as mediator between himself and his dad.  She had been his confessor, privy to all his secrets until he hit the awkward period of adolescence when he couldn’t talk to her because she was a woman. 

Sam was like her in many respects – same gentleness, same sense of organization, same dominance when her men got out of line, and he had just hurt her feelings. 

“Sorry, Carter,” he apologized gently.  “Look, let’s just all agree that Daniel’s important to the team and let it go at that, okay?  I respect that he’s good at what he does, but I don’t have to _enjoy_ it.” 

He fixed her with a gaze that announced that the subject was closed. 

He eyed Teal’c, who offered a regal nod of acceptance and moved on down the corridor, heading for the locker room to prepare for their next mission. 

A moment later, Carter stepped away, a lost expression on her face, and left to do the same. 

Jack sighed.  The week was not getting off to a good start, and the briefing on this mission was just about to get started.  He had a bad feeling about this one, especially since it was a follow-up that another team had started and never finished. 

None of the information gathered so far indicated anything but routine exploration on a benign world with a primitive population and some alien machine Hammond wanted investigated.  It was all usual stuff, really, but something about it gnawed at Jack, a sense of foreboding that things were about to go seriously wrong. 

His instincts rarely failed him, but the mission was scheduled and they’d shortly be moving out to meet whatever lay ahead. 

The whole spidey-sense thing put him in a bad mood, and when he stood in the ‘gate room to disembark, he glanced up at the control room and frowned. 

Hammond stared impassively down at him, and with a nod, Jack turned and faced the Stargate, the event horizon just settling into a placid vertical pool of shimmering light. 

“Move out,” he ordered, and headed up the ramp in the lead, the rest of his team following him into the rush of the wormhole. 

 

* * *

 

 

**August 17, 2002**

**P24-640**

“Jack… for once, will you _please_ just listen to what I’m saying?”  Daniel grimaced, and tried to push away the feelings that came to him more and more often these days -- the worry that he was no longer necessary, that he no longer fulfilled his purpose on the team as he once had. 

O’Neill shrugged off the complaint.  His mood indicated he was irritated, tired, hot, dirty and ready to get home to a nice, hot shower, good food and his comfortable bed. 

“I’m listening, Daniel, but I’m also walking.”  He pointed to his boots.  “Do you see me walking?  I’m listening to you, and I’m walking back to the Stargate.  That’s what we in the military like to call multi-tasking.  You should try it sometime.” 

There was always a military way to handle things, and since Jack was in command, he always chose it.  Somewhere along the way, he had stopped listening to anything else. 

Daniel’s hands tightened into fists as he remembered what Jack had said when they were trying to find a way to deal with Reese, the childlike android he had befriended and tried so desperately to save. 

I don’t like most of what you say.  I try to resist the urge to shove you through a wall. 

That had been Jack’s way of saying Reese had no impulse control.  Daniel had understood, but it still hurt to know that the man he once considered his best friend now thought so little of him.  There had been a time when his opinions, while not always welcome, at least were given consideration. 

That time, apparently, had come and gone. 

Jack didn’t even look at him now.  Instead, he eyed the trail ahead as they made their way back toward the Stargate empty-handed. 

The seemingly promising technology discovered by the previous team had turned out to be broken beyond repair, even after Sam spent nearly a week trying to fix it. 

“Aren’t you even willing to discuss this with me?” Daniel asked again. 

He tugged his Boonie hat down to further shade his face from the bright, hot sunshine.  The light had begun to hurt his eyes, and he switched his glasses for his prescription sunshades as they walked. A headache was starting to pound. 

“What’s to discuss?” Jack shot back distractedly.  “We’re doin’ what we’ve always done.” 

“No, we’re not,” Daniel insisted, trying to dampen the irritated tone in his voice. 

They stepped out of the narrow canyon into one of the numerous spacious pockets between the winding stone walls, and the group spread out behind Teal’c. 

Sam was right behind him, then Jack a little way farther back, and Daniel sullenly bringing up the rear. 

“There’s an indigenous race here we could be talking to,” Daniel insisted.  “We might learn something from them, if we spent the time--“ 

“That’s already been _covered_ ,” Jack snapped over his shoulder.  “Stop whinin’, Daniel!  Earth is running outta time, and if we don’t find something useful to help fight the Goa’uld, we could all end up _dead_.  Then you won’t have anything to piss and moan about.” 

Daniel stopped walking and stared at the man.  His mouth hung open slightly in shock. 

 _Was that really the way Jack felt about him?  That he was a whiner?_

He felt hot all of a sudden, hotter than a moment earlier, with the sun beating down on their shoulders in that scorching canyon.  Anger bubbled up inside him, and soon he was boiling, but he kept his mouth shut.  It was useless to try to talk to Jack with that attitude. 

What had happened to them?  Once upon a time, they had been friends, close as brothers.  They still spent some of their spare time together when not preparing for missions, along with Sam and Teal’c.  They _claimed_ to be a family... but Daniel knew that _real_ family members didn’t treat each other with such disdain. 

Well, they were almost home now.  Just a few klicks more and the canyon would widen into another such pocket where the Stargate and DHD sat awaiting them, and when they got back, Daniel realized he was thinking seriously about asking for reassignment to another team, or perhaps washing his hands of SGC altogether. 

He wouldn’t make any rash decisions; it was possible Jack was just in a bad mood -- another one -- and would come around later to apologize, but there was only so much of this kind of disrespect Daniel was willing to take, and he’d about reached the breaking point. 

They passed through the pocket and entered the next narrow passageway on their way back to the ‘gate. 

All hell broke loose as rocks fell down on them from above. 

Instantly they were separated, with Sam and Teal’c dashing forward down the cleft and Jack and Daniel retreating back the way they had come, looking for cover.  Jack looked upward to find their assailants, and saw a handful of the primitive natives shouting at them as they rained down their punishment. 

He raised his P-90 and shot at the rocky ledge above them, forcing the natives to back off. 

“Come on!” he shouted at Daniel, and led the way down the channel after Sam and Teal’c. 

“I thought these people were supposed to be harmless,” Daniel called after him. 

“Doesn’t look that way, does it?” Jack answered, glancing up, forward and behind with every step, ready for anything. 

“I don’t think we came this way,” Daniel added as he glanced at the rocky cliffs above them.  “We’ve taken the wrong route back.” 

Suddenly, a small brown man in a leather loincloth leaped out of a shallow cave and aimed a weapon at them.  Without hesitation, the alien fired. 

Jack went down, screaming in pain as he fell. 

“Shoot him!” Jack called. 

Daniel’s heart was pounding in his chest.  He gripped his P-90, finger poised on the trigger, but didn’t fire.  The little man was shouting loudly, and Daniel thought he caught a few words of what he was saying.  He hesitated, and Jack managed to bring his weapon into line and shot the man down. 

The body fell to a chorus of screams, and Daniel glanced past the corpse into the cave the man had been guarding. 

In the deep shadows, he could just barely see a handful of small faces staring back at them. 

The children crouched down to hide, crying and whimpering as the sky above them exploded with shouts and screams. 

More rocks rained down on them from above. 

Daniel knelt down and pulled Jack to his feet, standing beneath his arm as he helped Jack hobble away. 

A stone bounced off his shoulder, another off the top of his head, but he couldn’t return fire and support Jack.  They hurried past the cave entrance and down the narrow passageway, exiting into the right pocket, where Sam and Teal’c laid down cover fire while they kept moving. 

Jack was gritting his teeth trying not to cry out with pain, and Daniel glanced down at his leg. 

Pieces of it were missing. 

“Oh, God,” he breathed.  He hurriedly dialed the proper address, waited for the _kawoosh_ to pass and when the opening cleared, he entered the IDC, hoisted Jack over his shoulder and carried him through, calling for Sam and Teal’c to follow. 

Moments later, all four of them stood in the ‘gate room, watching Jack bleed all over the ramp while Sam shouted for medical assistance. 

The demand was repeated over the PA system by Hammond himself.  

Seconds passed before a gurney arrived and a medical team carried Jack off to surgery. 

Sam’s eyes were wounded as she watched him go, but she kept her post as the General came down from the control room for an initial report. 

“What happened, Major?” he demanded. 

Daniel’s heart was in his throat. He stared at Jack’s blood on the floor and remembered. His eyes closed as he struggled to keep himself together. 

“Those tribal aliens we thought were so pacifistic turned out not to be,” she told him, her eyes on the doorway.  “We couldn’t get that alien machine to work and were on our way back to the Stargate when they attacked us.  We got separated in the canyon, and Colonel O’Neill was attacked.  Daniel had to carry him back.” 

Daniel didn’t correct that, nor did he mention his own injuries, now swelling up beneath his hat and uniform.  He wanted to explain, to tell the General that the natives were just protecting their children; that _once again_ , Jack hadn’t listened to him when it mattered most.  He made eye contact with Hammond, knowing that he was expected to pick up the rest of the tale. 

“You’ll get my report,” he answered curtly. 

He turned on his heel and left the ‘gate room without another word, unwilling to give his side of the story without thinking through what he wanted to say first. 

Chances were excellent that he’d speak out of anger and say something he might regret later.  

Teal’c’s voice was a low rumble directed at the General. “It appeared that DanielJackson and O’Neill were having a disagreement when the attack began.  There has been some tension between them for several days.  DanielJackson wished to speak with the natives, but O’Neill refused.” 

“Any idea why he’d do that?” Hammond asked. 

Sam offered a half-hearted shrug.  “I don’t think he wanted to waste any more time on the planet.  He just wanted to get home, after the mission was a bust.” 

She glanced away for a moment, then back at the General.  “Maybe if we’d done what Daniel wanted and got to know the indigenous people, they wouldn’t have attacked us.  I don’t know, but maybe we ought to put off the debriefing for a little while, let everybody cool down, and see how the Colonel’s doing.” 

“Agreed,” Hammond returned curtly.  “I’ll expect reports from everyone in good time, but for the moment, I’ll be in the infirmary, waiting on word from Doctor Frasier.” 

“Right behind you, sir,” said Sam, worry in her eyes. 

Teal’c fell in step with her, and the trio left the gate room together.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel stormed down the corridor, fuming over what had happened.  He could still see the faces of those children, terrified that the intruders were going to hurt them, like they had killed their guardian.  There had been plenty of time to introduce themselves to the aliens.  Daniel could have made friends with them, made them understand that SG-1 posed no threat. 

He could have saved that man’s life. 

Only Jack had been in command, and he’d had other ideas. 

Daniel was upset that Jack had been hurt.  He knew the injury was bad, serious enough that he might even lose his leg.  For that reason alone he couldn’t bring himself to go home.  He showered and put on fresh clothes while his mind continuously replayed the last day of the mission, then holed up in his office to await information on Jack’s condition.  All that did was make him more and more angry, until he could hardly think straight. 

He was pacing when Sam stepped in hours later with the news that Jack was okay.  “They managed to save his leg,” she told him, “but it’s going to be a long, slow recovery.  Janet says we can go in and see him in a little while.” 

“Thanks for the update,” Daniel returned, grabbing a book from the shelf to pretend to look busy. 

He sat down at his desk and took a sip of now-tepid coffee.  He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, weary beyond words. 

“I think I’ll check in on him later.  Right now, I’ve got a mission report to write.”  He hit a key to disable the screen saver, and stared at the document he’d started hours earlier and never finished. 

She stared at him for a moment.  “Yeah.  Okay, Daniel.  See you later.” 

She hovered anxiously in the doorway as if she wanted to say something else, but when he frowned pointedly up at her, she shrugged and wandered slowly out of the room. 

He didn’t think about Jack then; didn’t want to.  He just concentrated on his work, and decided to let everything else take care of itself.  He was tired, but try as he might, he still found it impossible to make himself go home, and eventually stretched out on his couch for a nap. 

 

* * *

 

**August 18, 2002**

A call came bright and early the next morning for him to come to the briefing room.  Daniel entered, journal and coffee in hand, and sat down in an empty chair.  He flexed a polite smile to Jacob Carter and the man sitting beside him.

The fellow had a long, thin face framed by a shock of long brown hair shot with gray. A short, neatly trimmed beard and moustache framed his mouth. Dark eyes studied Daniel openly with a glimmer of intensity. 

General Hammond sat forward and clasped his hands.  “Doctor Jackson, this is Sanshe’er of the Tok’ra.  He and Jacob have come to the SGC with a request for your expertise.” 

Daniel made eye contact with the forbidding-looking Tok’ra man.  “What can I do for you, Sanshe’er?” 

“We’re in need of your assistance at an archaeological site off world,” Jacob answered instead.  “The project is highly sensitive and promises...  Well, let’s just say it’s very promising.” 

He smiled.  “We think it may have been a relatively recent home for Anubis, say, sometime in the last few centuries.” 

Sanshe’er shot a glance at Jacob, apparently displeased that he would give so much information away.  “We already have our top archaeologist working on it, but the site has some anomalies that are beyond our expert’s scope.   We thought you might be able to assist.” 

He hesitated, looking distinctly uncomfortable for a moment.  “Doctor Jackson, this could be some of the most useful information yet on Anubis, if we can get it all sorted out.” 

Daniel didn’t miss a beat.  “I’d be delighted to help.” 

Jacob spoke up quickly.  “This could be an extended project, Danny.  Months, maybe.” 

He met their eyes, all the frustration and anger he’d been feeling for the past few months steeling him.  “I’ll go home and pack.  That is, if General Hammond gives it his blessing.  I mean, SG-1’s not going to be going much of anywhere while Jack’s laid up.  I might as well be… useful.”  

“Are you sure you want to go on an extended mission, right at this juncture?” Hammond queried him.  There was surprise in his eyes, along with a good bit of uncertainty.

This was obviously a silent message for Daniel, hinting at something Hammond didn’t want to come right out and say in front of their guests. 

Daniel got it.  The team still hadn’t had a debriefing on the previous mission. He hadn’t been by to see Jack in the infirmary. Couldn’t. He was still too angry. 

That was just fine with Doctor Jackson. 

“I think that… um… doing some intensive archaeology might be very good for me, General Hammond.  Clear my head, so to speak.  Let things settle.  I can have my report on our last mission done by this afternoon, and be ready to go immediately after I turn it in.” 

Jacob looked between the two men.  “Something going on that I should know about?” 

“No.”  Both men said it in unison. 

Daniel flexed a polite smile.  “Jack’s going to be okay, Jacob.  We just weren’t sure about that for a little while yesterday.  Emotions are kind of… high.  But we’ll be okay.” 

Jacob didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t pursue the matter, either. 

“All right, then.  You have a go, Doctor Jackson,” Hammond assured him.  “This could be an excellent project for you during this hiatus.  All we needed was your confirmation.  If you’re sure…” 

“I’m sure, sir.”  He turned to the new Tok’ra representative.  “Do you have any notes I can look at to help get me up to speed?” 

Sanshe’er handed over a report and a small journal.  “This was prepared by our expert.  Everything you need should be in there.”  

Daniel flipped open the cover and scanned through the text.  “This looks like a pretty typical tribute.  What’s so special about it, other than that it’s new?” 

“The natives don’t know anything about the Goa’uld, and that temple’s brand-spankin’ new.  If Anubis didn’t bother conquering the people who lived there, why build a temple where he can be worshiped?” 

“Jacob!”  Sanshe’er’s dark eyes flashed with anger. 

Daniel pondered that.  “I know the Tok’ra don’t like to hand out too much information, Sanshe’er, but, see, that’s exactly the kind of stuff we _need_ to know going in.  Jacob understands, and I’m sure Selmak agreed.  So where am I going?” 

“The world is called Siraket.  Think Tibet,” said Jacob.  “You’re sure you can spare the time for this, Danny?” 

He shot a look at Hammond, aware that his irritation with current circumstances was showing, but unable to give a shit.  “I’ll be glad to do something actually _in my field_ for a change.” 

“We’ll expect regular reports from you during your expedition,” Hammond informed him.  “Including your mission report from P24-640.  Think you could turn that in before you leave?” 

“I just need to finish a couple more paragraphs, sir, and thank you for the opportunity.  I should be a whole new man when I get back.”  He flashed a hopeful grin at Hammond, though he was still boiling inside.  From the look the other man gave him, he was pretty sure the General could see the steam. 

Hammond looked uncertain. The look in his eyes was fearful that their number one civilian consultant might not want to come back. 

He was right to be afraid. 

Daniel didn’t care.  He shook the visitors’ hands, took the report and the journal, and left the base as fast as he could go, heading home to pack for a trip off-world.  He’d finish the report when he got back to the base and turn it in on his way to the Stargate, hoping he’d chosen the right words and didn’t sound like he was whining.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel eased into the room, careful not to make any noise in case the patient was sleeping, which he was.  This was one of the few private rooms in the infirmary aside from the Isolation rooms, and the seriousness of Jack’s condition had warranted the special accommodations for a few days.  With a sigh of relief, Daniel sidled up to the bed and studied the unconscious man. 

_What did I do?_ he wondered privately.  _What set you off?  Was it Reese?  Or is it just me that you can’t stand?_

He closed his eyes, remembering the look on the android’s face as she had shut her down for the last time.  She hadn’t been accusing; just disappointed that he hadn’t kept his word.  He’d hurt her much worse than the bullet that took her down.  The memory was still tender in his heart; a fresh wound just starting to heal, albeit slowly. 

He and Jack had been going through the motions afterward, avoiding each other as much as possible, being civil when they couldn’t and pretending things were normal, though they were far from that.  When they’d gone to P24-640, while Sam was tinkering with that broken machine, he had gone to Jack and asked permission to make contact with the natives. 

Jack hadn’t even acknowledged the request, just shot him a look that said ‘shut up.’ 

It had taken Daniel days to work up to discussing it again, and that time, he’d actually gotten the words out. 

Once again, the Colonel refused to listen. “I don’t wanna hear it, Daniel!  Just _shut up_.  We’ve covered this.” 

Only they hadn’t.  The team that had made first contact and discovered the device had offered a profile on the natives, but Daniel wasn’t sure it was accurate.  After all, the previous team had neither an archaeologist nor an anthropologist with them, just military types like Jack.  The Colonel trusted their assessment.  Daniel didn’t.  He wanted to see for himself, but at every turn, Jack had shot him down. 

Sullen and hurt that his opinion now meant nothing to his CO, Daniel had made one last effort on the way back home.  He had been planning to use that to lead into a frank talk with Jack about their friendship, but things had gone horribly wrong.  He needed to cool off before they got into it, but the air would have to be cleared between them before he’d keep his spot on SG-1. 

For that, Jack would have to be willing to talk to him. 

_Mountains will move first, I know,_ Daniel told himself, b _ut I can’t go on like this, Jack.  I can’t stand back and watch more people die because we have to do things your way.  The military way.  You used to listen to me.  Why did you stop?_

He hadn’t been prepared to talk, but he needed to see Jack, to silently touch base before he left for Siraket.  He wanted to touch, but to do so might wake Jack, so he kept his hands in his pockets.  His heart ached at the rift that had formed between them. 

The harsh words they’d exchanged in the ‘gate room when Reese had been killed seared across his memory, making him wince. 

The gap between them steadily widened since then, until it seemed the Colonel didn’t want him around, hardly even looked at him, much less respond to his questions. 

He refused to say goodbye.  His mouth pressed into a tight line, and he hoped O’Neill would be all right.  Glancing down at the leg swathed in bandages, he imagined what terrible pain Jack must be feeling, and knew that would have to pass before he could discuss things between them. 

He touched the bed rail lightly, and turned to leave for another world, a new challenge, and a little time to regroup.

 

* * *

 

 

**Deep Space**

**Aboard a Goa’uld _Ha’tak_**

Opening his eyes in the sarcophagus, Anubis inhaled as deeply as he could manage, and was wracked by a fit of coughing.  This host body was old and failing quickly, but he was still weak.  For centuries he had been trapped in it, but soon he would be strong enough to leave it for a new host.  Yu’s treachery had ensured eons of pain for the god of the dead, but Anubis was patient. 

He rose from the dead again, guaranteed a few more hours of life by the amazing machine Ra had stolen from its creators, and glanced down at the ruined hand extended from his sleeve.  Nothing could be done to heal this husk of a body.  The infection that Yu had implanted in him in his attempted assassination was held at bay, prevented from advancing by a treatment Anubis had procured, but there was no cure. Both the Goa’uld and host had fallen victim to it, and it had taken a thousand years of work and searching to discover the right medications that would regenerate the symbiote and prevent transmission of the disease to a new host. 

The process was slow and exceedingly painful.  Nothing could be done for the host, except prolonging his life through the sarcophagus until Anubis was strong enough to leave it.  That would be soon now, and the old god was pleased.  Already he had been examining those who served him for a proper candidate, but none had taken his fancy. 

Selection of a new host would wait.  Anubis stepped out of the machine, holding back a groan as the body protested painfully.  He made his rounds through the ship, visiting the _peltak_ last of all, and standing before the window that looked out at the stars.  All the pieces were falling into place; his great plan finally coming to fruition.  Soon, the armies he needed would be massed; the weapons of war built and ready to be used against the Tau’ri, but there was one other place he needed in place first, in order to be victorious over the System Lords once Earth was destroyed. 

He took his time traveling to Siraket.  As he watched the stars stream by like glittering jewels cast before him, he remembered when he was young, revisiting a fond memory…

 

 _He strolled through the garden, his hands brushing against the velvety leaves of the_ hoshu _bushes.  The sound of falling water drew him, and he emerged from the shady grove into the brightness of sunlit afternoon.  He preferred the shadows and the night because his Unas host’s eyes were sensitive to the light, and no matter how he tried to correct the host’s vision, he had no success in dulling the pain.  
_

_Today, he had no choice but to enter into the gleaming landscape, for beside the splashing fountain he had seen a creature that mesmerized him, drawing him out almost against his will.  
_

_“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice gentle.  
_

_The Being turned, and the enchantment enveloped him completely.  She was made in a shape not unlike the Unas, but her skin was smooth and pale as new-fallen snow.  Large violet eyes blinked at him, as if the creature had not heard him approach.  Her pupils were narrowed into slits, but the moment she saw him, the blackness expanded with interest.  Her soft, smooth lips thinned out, and she showed her blunt teeth in pleasure.  He knew instantly who and what she was, and thought the last of the Tejennans had been destroyed long ago.  
_

_“I am Egeria,” she answered with a regal nod of her head, in the many-toned voice of the symbiote, “and I am Taweret.  We greet you, Lord Anubis.”  
_

_He was startled by the greeting, and bent down to be closer to her.  “Do you not know what blasphemy it is to recognize your host as an equal?”  
_

_She cocked her head and flashed a winsome smile.  “We do, but we are a queen, and much latitude is granted us among the gods, since queens are rare.”  
_

_He chuckled, intrigued by her audacity and daring.  She was a fiery one, and he wanted her instantly.  “I had thought all of this race were gone.  Ra destroyed them.”  He touched her smooth cheek, intrigued by this alien form, and the smoothness of her skin intoxicated him.  
_

_The female’s good humor vanished.  Egeria’s gaze went back to the water, and her hand played in it.  “Taweret is the last of her kind.  She lives only because it pleased a young queen to have her as a host.”  
_

_Anubis stroked the fine gray-green filaments that extended from the top of her head down her back.  “Do you know why they were destroyed, little queen?”  
_

_“Yes.”  Egeria kept her back to him.  “Because they dared to prophesy against the gods.”  
_

_“This prophecy is a forbidden subject, Egeria.  Why have you taken this Tejenna female as a host?”  
_

_The Being turned to face him again.  “Because this one offered herself to me willingly, to share her knowledge and wisdom.  I wished to experience a willing host, and am pleased to have done it.”_

_She smiled again.  “I have learned much from Taweret.”_

_Egeria rose and shrugged out of the garment she wore, then stepped naked into the water.  “Including a love of water and swimming.  Come in with me, Lord Anubis.”  
_

_He couldn’t resist.  Her beauty and lively charm were a refreshing change from the seriousness and constant intrigues among the gods.  And since this was the young queen he had heard so much about lately…  
_

_“Mate with me,” he demanded, stepping into the water fully clothed.  “Let me seed you, Egeria.”  
_

_She laughed and splashed him.  “You are bold, my lord, but I cannot grant your demand.  I have only matured enough to take a host, not yet enough to spawn.  It will be years before I will be fertile.  Besides, have you not a wife already?  Would she not be displeased with us both?”  
_

_“My wife is not a queen,” Anubis informed her haughtily.  “She is elevated only by my station, and while you will have many mates during the span of your fertility, I wish to be first.”  He reached out for her, and his hands slid over the slippery, wet skin of her shoulders.  A slight electric shock passed into him through that contact, and he gasped. “Egeria!”  
_

_“Apologies, my lord.  I had no wish to harm you, but neither do I wish to mate with you.  I fear your host body would cause me pain with your rough skin and scales.”  
_

_He laughed huskily and pulled her close.  “No harm was done, little fish,” he assured her. “but you have most certainly aroused me.  I will have you, Egeria.  You will be my mate, and no other.  If I must choose a more pleasing host, so be it.  I shall search the universe for one that will arouse your interest, for my heart is no longer my own.”  
_

_She slipped out of his grasp and disappeared beneath the surface of the water with a brief laugh.  
_

_Anubis was enthralled, and dove in after her.  For hours he played with her in the water, stealing an embrace before she disappeared for far too long.  In a panic, he called out to her, diving under to search in the fading light.  He couldn’t find her anywhere, and slogged back to shore to call for his slaves to bring torches and boats.  
_

_The sound of laughter made him turn, and as she emerged from the water, he saw that her body was producing a glow all its own as darkness settled over the garden.  
_

_He sent the slaves away with an angry shout, and turned back to the young queen with desire in his heart.  He spoke tender words and caressed her until she was breathless and pliable, and she promised him her heart. But as he walked with her to his palace, her slender hand in his, his wife came out to meet him and Egeria slipped away into the night.  
_

_For days afterward he searched for her, but the young queen was nowhere to be found.  Anubis dreamed of her, imagined her in his bed when he lay with his wife.  He was drunk with love for the young one, and had his entire household search for her until he learned that Ra had returned from his latest journey in a new body – in a host called human.  
_

_The Supreme Lord of the Goa’uld displayed himself to the others, demonstrating how superior this form was to the Unas, and Anubis knew that he had to have one.  He had made his selection with great care, choosing one that was tall and strong yet comely, with smooth bronze skin, long dark hair, and eyes as black as the night._

_Egeria would not be able to resist this body, he was sure.  
_

_But still she could not be found.  The memory of her burned in Anubis, but the need for her waned.  He would hear gossip now and then about her; that Ra had sent her away until she was mature enough to procreate, but no one would tell Anubis where she had gone._

_Slowly, he let go of the dream, trying to forget her, but the sound of falling water would bring the memory back and he would be helpless in its grasp._

“Egeria,” he whispered to the stars.  “I still miss you, little queen.” 

More memories came in the wake of that one, some intoxicating, others devastating.  His past unfolded like a black flower, and hatred blossomed anew inside him.  They would _pay_ for what they had done to him. 

All of them would pay penance to the god of the dead, until none were left.  Only then could he find the peace he so wanted.  Only then could he die cleansed of his sins, when there was no one left to remember them.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack lay on the crisply starched sheets, listening to the monitor beep quietly somewhere across the room.  The lights were low but still annoying, and he couldn’t sleep no matter how much pain medication they gave him.  He glanced down at his left leg, at the thick swath of bandages holding him together, at the array of pullies and cords that kept his limb elevated off the mattress. 

He sighed.  He wasn’t going anywhere for a long time, and the recovery promised to be exquisitely painful, as Doctor Frasier had put it. 

“ _Exquisitely_ painful,” he quoted to the otherwise empty room.  “Yeah, it’s that, all right.” 

Footsteps coming into the room made him turn toward them, and disappointment settled in when he saw that it wasn’t Daniel.  Carter beamed at him, sunny as always. 

“Just thought I’d check in with you before I went to work,” she said cheerfully.  “How are you feeling?” 

“Peachy,” he growled back.  “How ‘bout yourself?” 

“Not bad.  I’ve got a lot of back-burner stuff to deal with, so I’ll be busy for a while, but I’ll try to come by a couple times a day, to see if you need anything.” 

“I need to get out of this damn bed,” he grouched.  “And where the hell is Daniel?  I haven’t had a chance to thank him for saving my worthless hide.” 

Sam looked distinctly uncomfortable.  “He hasn’t been to see you yet?” 

The glare was answer enough. 

“He was tired last night.  Teal’c and I hung outside the Infirmary waiting to hear how you were, but Daniel holed up in his office.  When Janet told us you were going to be okay, I went to give him the news and I think he crashed later on his sofa.  We were all pretty wiped out by that point, and I’ll bet he didn’t want to go home with you in such… uh… so messed up.” 

Sam glanced at his bandaged leg and winced.  “I think Daniel’s still pretty upset.  About everything.” 

She pointedly didn’t mention their argument during the last minutes of the mission.  “I’m glad you’re all right, sir.”    

“Yeah.  I just don’t _feel_ very all right.”  He grimaced as a tiny movement shot a streak of red-hot pain up his thigh and into his groin.  “Shit!” 

“I thought you didn’t use that kind of language in front of ladies,” she teased. 

“Send one in and I’ll watch what I say,” he shot back crossly. 

Carter got up from her stool, wandered around the end of the bed to the morphine pump, and pushed the plunger to deliver another dose of medication. 

“I can do that myself!” he griped, frowning at her.  The drug was warm as it moved up his arm through the IV assembly, and moments later he felt its intoxicating effect begin. 

“I know you _can_ , but I also know you _won’t_ ,” she countered gently.  Bending over the railing on the side of the bed, she laid her hand on his arm.  “Sir, this is tough for you, I know that, but you’re a smart man, and you need to take advantage of the help being offered to you.  It won’t be long till they’ll switch you to some pansy aspirin or some such, and you’ll be wishing you _had_ morphine.  Use it while you can, okay?” 

“I’ll use it when I _feel_ like it.”  He groaned and rolled his eyes, clutching at his leg.  His head fell back against the pillow, and he felt himself starting to relax.  He was drowsy now, and his leg didn’t hurt so much anymore. 

Parts of him felt like they were floating.  He liked floating, but his nose itched.  “Thanks, Carter.” 

She smiled, but her eyes were somber.  “I’ll go see if I can scare up Daniel and send him by.  You guys need to talk.” 

Jack frowned, saddened by the reminder of his missing teammate.  “He’s mad at me for something.  Haven’t figured out what yet.”  Guilt nudged him, then faded quietly away.  “He saved my life, though.  That’s gotta mean something, right?” 

“Yeah,” she agreed.  “It means he cares.  You get some sleep, okay?  I’ll be back later.” 

“Okay.”  He heard her moving toward the door.  His drugged mind juggled mental images of his friends, until he slipped away into sleep, unaware of his damaged body for a few more hours.  Carter would help make things right.  She always did, and he had every confidence that tradition would carry on, even when he wasn’t at his best.

 

* * *

 

 **August 19, 2002**

Hauling the heavy trunk full of books onto the hand truck, Daniel glanced around his office one more time to make sure he had everything he’d need for the dig.  Laying his suitcase on top of the trunk, he grabbed the handle, tilted the device and wheeled it to the ‘gate room.  He looked up into the control room and nodded to the technician dialing in the coordinates for Siraket. 

“Hey, you weren’t gonna leave without saying goodbye, were you?” asked Sam as she strolled into the room. 

Teal’c was a step behind her, his face impassive as always.  “Have you not been to see ColonelO’Neill, DanielJackson?  He has been asking for you.” 

Daniel lifted the suitcase and trunk off the hand truck as another chevron engaged, and parked the cart against the wall, to be returned to the supply room later. 

He glanced guiltily up at Teal’c.  “Yeah, I saw him, but he was sleeping and I didn’t want to wake him.  We can catch up later.” 

Teal’c nodded.  “I will tell him so.  Will you need any assistance?” 

“Nah, I can get this.  You got plans?” 

“I will be temporarily assigned to several other teams, to fill in where needed.” 

“That’s good.  Gotta stay busy.”  He glanced at Sam.  “And I’ll bet you’ve got research projects backed up and waiting for you, right?” 

She grinned and rolled her eyes.  “Oh, yeah.  I’m way too much in demand.”  
  
”You’ll get a lot accomplished over the next couple of months, I’m sure.” 

He felt uncomfortable, wanting to be gone already, rather than saying goodbye. 

He hated goodbyes. 

She reached out and hugged him, smiling broadly as she pulled away.  “Have fun digging in the dirt, and be careful out there.” 

He would miss them both.  “I will, and do something fun with Teal’c during his off-time.  Buy him a new hat or something.”  He patted the big guy on the shoulder and turned to leave. 

Daniel didn’t look back as he stepped through the Stargate alone, planning to use the off-time to rethink his position with SGC. 

Getting away for a while seemed to be the ideal thing, and he had leaped at the chance.  It was strictly an archaeological mission on some remote world whose nomadic population was as simple as those on Abydos, and widely scattered over the planet.  The report mentioned that the setting was mountainous, so he had packed his winter gear – chiefly civilian clothes, though he took a couple of his uniforms for good measure – along with his too-long-unused tool kit, several blank journals and a trunk full of reference books he hoped might come in handy.  

Daniel exited the wormhole and saw a quiet village of simple hide tents dotting the landscape nearby, spread out on either side of a placidly flowing stream.  The villagers wore simple tunics and trousers with long, colorful vests over the top, and peaked hats that reminded him of Tibetan mountain folk, as it had Jacob.  He surveyed the beautiful scenery, the snow-capped mountains ringing them in, and the low green hills that filled the interior of the valley, leading down to the restless sea. 

It was warmer there than he had expected, but he supposed being coastal had a lot to do with that.  The clothes he’d brought might not be suitable, but he could always strip down to a T-shirt if he got too hot.  He glanced at the rolling ocean and thought of spending an idle afternoon laid out on the sand with his head in his journal, just listening to the whisper of the waves. 

Daniel sighed.  He _did_ need a vacation, and this was the closest thing to it that he was going to get. 

His eyes automatically moved up the slope to the sheltering mountain, where a handful of workers could be seen digging into the rock with picks and shovels.  The slope was littered with holes where digs had begun and been abandoned, or where tunnels had been bored into the heart of the mountain, leading into darkness.  Above them were the remains of a reclining statue, its head so badly eroded that no species identification was possible, but it had all the stylistic earmarks of something Egyptian – a lion, perhaps, or a jackal.  The hindquarters backed into the mountain, so there was no visible tail to aid in determining what manner of creature it was supposed to be. 

At the crest of the ridge beyond and behind the statue, a graceful pyramid arose to catch the sun’s golden light.  He knew exactly what that was for: a landing site for a Goa’uld mother ship.  Its surface looked smooth and untouched by time, unlike the heavily worn statue reclining halfway down the mountain. 

Daniel headed straight for the carving, his eyes sweeping the graceful curves of shoulder and hip.  He skirted the village and crossed the stream on several slippery stones, stopping just long enough to drop his luggage beside a tent already erected on a knee of the slope halfway to the dig. 

A woman stepped out, dressed in an elaborate set of auburn colored robes.  She bowed deeply to him in welcome.  

“Doctor Jackson, I presume,” the woman said in perfect, British accented English.  “I am Ysmin, servant to the one who studies this site.”  She straightened and looked him in the eye.  “And now, also servant to you.  I will see to your things, while you introduce yourself up the mountain.” 

“Thank you, Ysmin,” he said warmly.  “Is this my tent, or will I need to get one from my people?  I didn’t bring one, assuming there would be quarters for me to stay in at the dig site.”  He shrugged and offered an embarrassed little smile.  “I guess I should’ve asked.” 

“One might assume you were not well briefed,” she stated simply, and reached for the suitcase he carried.  “Or in a hurry.” 

“And both would be true,” he agreed, moving the heavy bag back out of her reach.  “I’ll carry all this heavy stuff inside, and you can put my things away wherever you like.  How’s that?” 

She pressed her palms together and bowed, a tiny smile glimmering in the corners of her mouth.  “You are generous.  It will be a pleasure working for you, Doctor Jackson.” 

Pulling the tent flap aside, she let him duck inside first and entered again behind him.  “You are privileged to be working with this particular Tok’ra, my young friend.  This is the first time Reyenne has ever requested assistance.” 

“Oh?  Why is that?” 

“Reyenne is very old, Doctor, and unique.  There is little about the Goa’uld that one does not already know.” 

“Oh.  Okay.”  He set down his suitcase, the trunk full of books and tools, and his sleeping bag on a thick, plush carpet that covered the ground. 

The spacious interior of the tent was beautifully decorated with rich velvets and tapestries, and the existing bed consisted of a small mattress lying in the middle of the room.  Tables with various books were spread around the perimeter, and there was a large trunk near the door that presumably held clothes and other personal items.  It had a distinctly Arabic air to the decorating, with a little Asian thrown in for good measure. 

“This is a lot more luxurious than the camp sites I’m used to,” he observed happily.  “I think I’m going to enjoy this.” 

He gave the elder a slight bow.  “Thank you, Ysmin.  I’ll be happy to put my own things away, if you have other things to do.  I’m accustomed to looking after myself.”

She offered a smile and bow.  “It will be my pleasure, Doctor.  And now, Reyenne is expecting you.”

“Yes, of course.  Which tunnel can I find him in?”

Ysmin smiled.  “Take the one beside the statue.  She will be waiting for you there.”

“She?”  He should have spent more time reading the brief and its accompanying data.  “Okay.  Thanks, Ysmin.” 

He paused, regarding the old woman for a moment longer.  “I’ve never met a Tok’ra who had a _lotaur_ before.  Yours must be quite an unusual arrangement.”

“It is unique among the Tok’ra, for many reasons,” she agreed enigmatically.

Daniel could see that he wasn’t going to pry any additional details out of Ysmin at the moment, so he left the tent looking for a very old woman to step out of the tunnel.  He climbed right up to the statue, running his hand along the eroded surface, as if his fingertips might aid him in deciphering its mystery by touch alone.  Like the earthly Sphinx, it kept its secrets, and he gave it a pat, welcoming the challenge laid before him.

He smiled.  Something new to occupy his mind was just what he needed, and he could hardly wait to begin.  He looked around for the aforementioned elder woman, and spied a figure in a hooded white robe emerging from one of the tunnels on the far side of the statue.

White was an odd color for an archaeologist to wear, as it showed any dirt and the job required getting covered in the stuff.  His eyes roved over her shape and size, and he wondered how anyone so small and delicate could be interested in a grungy profession like archaeology. 

The woman pushed the hood back from her face and smiled at him.  Long, dark hair disappeared into the collar of her robe, but an errant lock of snow-white began at her crown and swept down the left side of her elfin face.  Big amber eyes regarded him beneath a fan of thick black lashes, eyes sparkling with intelligence and curiosity.  She was pretty in a girlish sort of way, though he was sure she wasn’t as young as she looked. Ysmin had told him as much.

“Doctor Jackson?” she asked, an enchanting accent coloring her pronunciation of his name.  “I make you welcome to Siraket.  I am Reyenne, primary archaeologist for the Tok’ra on this dig.”

He smiled at the way she said certain words, guessing she hadn’t been speaking English for very long.  The accent sounded vaguely French or Spanish, but not quite either. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” he responded, offering his hand.  She stepped back suddenly, glancing down at the hand he extended toward her, surprised and slightly alarmed.

 _“Forgive me,”_ she said, this time her voice tinged with the deep distortion of a symbiote’s influence.  _“The Tok’ra know this custom, but it is alien to Reyenne’s people.  She prefers not to touch.  No offense is intended.”_

Daniel gave a gracious nod and dropped his hand to his side.  “None taken,” he assured her.  “Who are Reyenne’s people, if I may ask?  I didn’t get much of a briefing before my arrival.”

“The Shoshani,” she replied.  “I am Kirin, of the Tok’ra.  We have heard much about your expertise, and look forward to sharing our knowledge of this site with you.”  She extended one ankle and bowed from the waist, her hands up before her face, half covering it, revealing only her eyes.

Daniel repeated the gesture to her, assuming it was a Shoshani greeting.

Reyenne laughed, a light, soft sound, without the added timbre of the symbiote.  “That is a Shoshani _woman’s_ greeting, Doctor.  The man acknowledges with a nod of the head, thus.”  She demonstrated for him.  “But it is not necessary for you to practice my customs.  I learn many of yours from Kirin, who knows of your culture.  My English comes from her.”

“It would be my pleasure to learn your people’s customs, Reyenne.”  He glanced over his shoulder at the tent.  “I didn’t bring any kind of lodging.  I guess I should order some up from SGC.  Ysmin is bunking me in with you, for the moment.”  He cleared his throat.  “I hope that’s not a problem.  I’m perfectly harmless.”

She glanced at the large tent downslope.  “There is room enough for two,” she assured him, “and I do not mind this ‘bunking in.’  We can talk late at night over our discoveries of the day.”

That could be both exhilarating and dangerous, Daniel mused privately, watching her mouth move, and the enticing little dimple that flared in her right cheek when she talked.  Then again, he didn’t know anything about this woman or her people.  She didn’t like to be touched, which should solve the problem of being in close quarters neatly enough, but a couple of months sharing a bedroom with an attractive woman could overcome a lot of cultural prohibitions, regardless of how old she really was.

He chided himself for having such thoughts about a woman he had only just met, and concentrated on the task at hand.  Just to make things a little easier, he glanced away at the lovely view of mountain and green valley.  It had been a while since he had a view as nice as this to appreciate, and he took a deep breath of the clean, crisp mountain air.

And sneezed.  Three times.

From his pocket he withdrew a handkerchief and a bottle of antihistamines.  With a shrug toward his new co-worker, he rattled the bottle.  “Must be something here I’m allergic to,” he told her, and opened the bottle to pop one of the tablets into his mouth.  He swallowed it without water and set his watch to beep when the next dose would be due.  “This hasn’t happened in a while.  Guess I need a stronger antihistamine.” 

“I hope you do not become ill,” Reyenne offered with a note of concern.  “The people here have little in the way of medical assistance, but we are trying to help with that.”

“Good.  That’s good.”  Daniel nodded toward the tunnel.  “Shall we get started?”

Reyenne nodded and started back toward the tent.  “This place is a maze, if you do not know the way, Doctor.  Let me begin with what I have discovered up to now, and then I will take you on a tour.”

“Sounds good.”  He watched her start off down the mountain and smiled. 

He was going to enjoy listening to that accent and looking into those unusual eyes for the next couple of months.  Technically, Jack wouldn’t be back on his feet and mission-ready for at least several months, and Daniel planned to stay right where he was until SGC called him back to regular duty.  It had been a long time since he’d had the pleasure of working an extended dig, and he was looking forward to it more than ever, now that he’d seen who his partner would be.

Reyenne barely came to the middle of his chest.  She was all girly and gracefulness, vastly different from the soldier Sam was, from the women he saw every day at SGC.  She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, either, but she was pretty and there was a certain allure about her.  Maybe it was that accent.  Maybe it was the soft-looking white robe that hinted at the womanly curves beneath without being blatant about it.  Or maybe it was just that she was someone new, someone fresh who didn’t know him like the back of her hand.

On the downside, she was a Tok’ra, and even though part of him knew she was one of the “good guys,” the rest of his insides couldn’t get over the fact that she was inhabited by one of those creatures, albeit of a different philosophy, that had been responsible for the loss of his wife. 

He sighed as he turned away and trudged down the mountainside to begin the task of making himself at home on a new world, and putting his mind to the problem of this ancient puzzle he’d been sent to solve.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel noticed that Ysmin had put his sleeping bag head-to-head with Reyenne’s, stacking his books like a small wall between them.  With such an arrangement, he couldn’t look across the room at night and see her.  He thought it was very modest, and approved immediately.

He just hoped Reyenne didn’t snore.

Strapping on his tool belt, he grabbed a blank journal, checked to make sure he had a mechanical pencil and plenty of lead, plus one of the reference books he thought would be the most help, and sat down on a low stool Ysmin had put out for him at an ornately carved table in a corner, obviously meant for meals and study.

“You have settled, yes?” Reyenne asked, glancing to see what he had changed in her quarters.  “You approve of this arrangement?”

“Yeah.  I think it’ll work.”  He hadn’t intended the gruff tone in his voice, but he saw by her expression that Reyenne picked up on the undertone instantly. 

It wasn’t that he minded sleeping in the same tent with her; it was simply that it had been a very, very long time since he’d been close to a woman and he didn’t want to be constantly distracted by her.  It was embarrassing enough that he’d had her naked in his mind already in the first few minutes of meeting her.  He just didn’t want to awaken some morning and discover that she’d been naked in his dreams, too. 

“If it makes you unhappy, Doctor Jackson, we can arrange for separate quarters.  It was just... I was not expecting to need help with this.”  She dropped her gaze, obviously mortified by the flush in her cheeks and the firm set of her mouth.

“Please, call me Daniel.”  He smiled at her. 

_Damn, she was easy on the eyes._

Reyenne seemed startled for a moment. “All right, but understand, I mean no disrespect in using your personal name, since you have given permission.”

“Your people don’t do that?”

“Shoshani women are not allowed to speak to men in such familiar terms.”  She hesitated, and her gaze slid away.  “ _Most_ women.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your people while we walk up to the dig, and then you can show me around?”  He could see she was uncomfortable about something, but wasn’t sure what.  The briefing he’d gotten for this mission hadn’t included much about his hostess -- not even her sex -- except that it was a promising Goa’uld temple, and the archaeologist working on it needed the Tau’ri’s best to help decipher what was being uncovered.

“If you wish,” she said, offering another bow.  She described a broad overview of her people and Daniel found himself comparing them to certain Middle Eastern cultures, with some Native American and Japanese influences thrown in.  He was surprised to learn that women were forbidden education, and wondered how she had managed to escape that fate.  If she weren’t good at what she did, she wouldn’t have been put in charge of this Tok’ra dig.

“Is your symbiote the one with the education?” he asked, trying to be as gentle as possible in how he phrased it.

Reyenne smiled and bowed her head as they stepped up to the tunnel entrance.  “We share a mutual love of things old,” she answered.  “My father saw that I was bright early on, and put me into a place where I would be taught.  There is… one caste of women who are allowed to learn whatever interests them, as well as all the social graces.  I chose archaeology.”

“Oh?  Who are these women?”

 _“Sennetna,”_ she told him enigmatically as they arrived at the entrance.  “And now we change subjects, to the work at hand.  Come, and I will show you the progress we have made. You may wish to draw a map of the tunnels as we walk through them, so you will not get lost.”

He pulled out his pencil from the tool belt and flipped open the journal to the first page.  “Lead on, Reyenne,” he said cheerfully, and glanced at the painted walls as they stepped inside. 

His eyes adjusted to the dimness quickly, and he scanned the pictures and writing, noting that it was familiar Goa’uld stuff. Listening to his hostess’s interpretation of the mural, he nodded in affirmation when she hit everything dead-on.

He recognized the familiar pantheon of Egyptian gods, chief of which was the figure of Anubis, walking upright among them.  The paintings looked fresh, created sometime in the last century.  If Anubis had been there recently, then he understood why the Tok’ra were so excited about this particular find.

They progressed further in and branched off to the left, traveling down further and further, working by torchlight. She indicated where a wall had just been removed, and on the far side of that, the writing almost disappeared in favor of large murals.  There were paintings of mythical scenes that excited Daniel about the tale being told, something unheard of in Goa’uld history to date. 

His mind spun off in a hundred different directions as Reyenne postulated what she thought it might mean, and led him on into the interior of a series of other chambers, some with a wealth of artifacts; others empty and with blank walls.

He’d never seen a tomb or temple quite like it before, and started making notes alongside rooms and locations on the maze map he drew for himself as they moved deeper into the tunnel system.  By the time she reached the final chamber, he was light-headed with excitement and hunger, eager to get started going over what had already been done so he’d know exactly where to go from there. 

Then Reyenne surprised him.

“Now lead us out, Daniel,” she ordered with a smile.

He hesitated for a beat, then glanced down at his journal. He decided not to correct her pronunciation of his name, not really minding that it sounded more like “Danielle” coming off her tongue than the masculine name. 

With a tug at his heart, he felt the brush of an old memory.  That was exactly how Shau’ri had said it.

Only this woman was nothing like her.

Turning his map around on his palm, he took the lead and retraced their path until he stepped back out into the twilight. His head came up and he looked at the sky, mesmerized by the view from the entrance.

“Oh, my God!” he whispered, staring up at the starlit sky. 

Some kind of atmospheric disturbance took place above them and ribbons of light danced in the sky above their heads, spangled with a rainbow of bright flashes that reminded him of fireworks, except that they didn’t burn out as they fell to earth.  The sparkles remained airborne, moving about in random patterns, diving and swooping among the long incandescent ribbons in a riveting display.

“The natives say it is the dance of the gods,” she told him softly, appearing at his elbow.  “Our scientists say they are two species of tiny creatures, having perfect symbiosis.”  She hesitated.  “If such a thing can truly be.”

He glanced down at her.  “You don’t believe that’s possible?  Then why did you become a Tok’ra?”

She looked up at him and was silent for a long time, her expression closed, but tinged with sadness.  "I worked with Kirin's previous host for some time before he was killed in an accident.  She was in desperate need of a host when the accident happened and I was… I offered.  Neither of us had much choice.  I could not let her die."

The whites of her eyes glowed momentarily with Tok'ra anger, but the symbiote kept silent.

"I get the impression there's a lot more to this story than I've been told," Daniel observed. "Is Kirin pleased with the arrangement?"

 _"We share many common interests,"_ the symbiote replied casually.  _"Come, Doctor Jackson.  Ysmin will have our dinner ready."_  

She led the way down the slope in the fading light, her white robe reflecting the rainbow above them, making her appear to glow like a colorful ghost in the deepening twilight.

He entered the tent behind her and approached the low dinner table in the back of the spacious room, but Reyenne didn't sit immediately.  It dawned on him after a moment that she was probably waiting on him to sit first, according to the customs of her people, and he sat cross-legged on the ground where one of the places had been set. 

Reyenne knelt, Japanese style, across from him and served portions of the meal onto his plate.  Daniel adjusted his seat to his knees, impressed that the carpet beneath them had sufficient padding to make it reasonably comfortable, and began to eat.  After she had seen that he was satisfied, she took up her utensils and joined him.

They talked about the dig, about other places they had studied and interesting people they had met, and though he tried to be delicate about leading her into personal revelations, she deftly managed to keep the conversation on work-related topics.  When the meal was finished, she invited him to bathe in the fresh-water ocean, promising him privacy until he returned, when she would take her turn.

Daniel noted that his clothes remained neatly packed into the suitcase, but his toiletries had been placed on a small shelf at the back of his sleeping space.  Taking up what he needed, he headed down to the beach and found several of the male villagers who had been doing the manual labor on the dig, also washing the day's sweat and dirt from their bodies.  He noticed that many had what appeared to be colorful tattoos on their backs, but once they stepped from the water, the markings disappeared. 

One by one, as they dried off, they stopped by a handful of old women, who painted them up again and sent them back to the village.  He supposed the markings were some kind of spiritual armor, since little of the designs were visible beneath their clothes. 

Daniel bathed some distance away from the other men, and when he finished, he returned straight away to the tent.

Ysmin went with Reyenne toward the ocean, and Daniel stepped outside to watch them.  Most of the men had gone, but there were a few still on the beach and he wanted to make sure the women were safe. The beach was about half a mile from the tent, so he could make out the shapes of people against the glittering water reflecting the rainbow display still dancing in the sky, but couldn't see clearly enough to determine any details.

The older woman undressed her mistress, bathed her and put on a clean white gown before seeing to her own hygiene. 

Reyenne walked back alone, her face in shadow, the lock of white hair glowing on top of her head. 

Daniel stepped aside to let her into the tent, still watching Ysmin as she finished up and headed back toward them. 

Instead of coming to the tent, however, she went into the village and disappeared into the hut nearest the campsite.

"You are protective of the females," Kirin observed.  "This pleases Reyenne."

He turned toward her, still running his electric razor.  "So what's with you two?  Did she take up with someone you didn't like or something?"

Kirin smiled.  "If only it were a simple matter of taste," she said regretfully.

"Sounds serious," he mused, turning off the shaver and blowing the whiskers out of it.  "Are you looking for a different host now?  Or are things not that bad?"

Kirin's humor faded.  "I cannot leave Reyenne.  Not until she dies."

Daniel frowned at her.  He crossed the room to his bed and sat down heavily on his sleeping bag.  "That could be a long time off.  I thought the Tok'ra stayed for life in a willing host… though you guys do tend to get killed a lot." 

He cleared his throat nervously and moistened his lips, aware how tactless a remark that was, albeit true.  “Anyway, you don’t sound too happy with the deal.  What’s up with that?”

The woman shrugged. _"Reyenne’s is an unusual case.  She cannot live without a symbiote.  If I leave her, she will die; if not by natural causes, then by her own hand.  There were many things about her that I did not know before blending, and afterward I knew she would not survive my loss, should I separate from her."_

He stared at her.  There was a haunted look in her eyes, but he couldn't tell if that was a reflection of human or symbiote.  "Other people have survived it.  Sam Carter, a woman I work with, had her symbiote die inside her, to save Sam's life.  She went through a couple of rough spots, but she's doing just fine on her own."

Abruptly, the timbre of her voice changed.  "I am not your Sam Carter," Reyenne returned quietly, "and Kirin is right.  I cannot bear the emptiness she would leave in her wake if she chose another host.  Losing Kirin would kill me, so we are both trapped, you see."

"Maybe the Tau'ri could help you," he offered, grasping at straws.  "Our medical science seems to be effective--"

 _"It is not the biological process,"_ Kirin corrected, _"but something far deeper.  Separating physically could be done easily enough.  Reyenne is not strong enough to survive without the strength of my mind, to help her deal with--"_

She turned abruptly away and sat down gracefully on her portable bed.  Reyenne wished him a gentle good night, took off her robe and slid naked under the covers.  Daniel glanced away when he saw her lifting the garment, but something made him look back and watch her as she settled beneath the blankets. 

With that image on his mind, he rose to blow out the lamps set around the room, and removed his pants. 

Wearing only T-shirt and boxers, he got into his sleeping bag and did his best to not think about the naked woman just over the wall of books, slipping slowly into dreams.

He tried to concentrate instead on the nightlights on high, casting their pastel rainbow on the translucent fabric of their shelter, easing him gently into sleep.

 

* * *

 

The sound of whimpering awakened him.  Years of sleeping lightly while on missions made him attentive to small noises, and he was instantly conscious, listening.  The source of the sound was his new partner, and he raised up on one elbow to peer over the books at her.

She was having a nightmare, beads of sweat on her forehead despite the cool temperature of the tent, her hands twisting up in the covers.

"Hey," he called softly.

She cried out softly in what he guessed was her native language, and then her eyes opened.  The light emanating from them told him plainly who was in command of her body.  Kirin spoke softly.

_"Shall I wake her so she will not trouble your sleep?"_

"No, Kirin.  Let her sleep.  Can't you do something about the nightmare, though?  It looks pretty bad."

She sighed.  _"I must rest also, Doctor Jackson.  Usually, we sleep together, but to spare you her dreams, I will remain on guard against them."_   Her eyes closed and she grew still.  _"They are terrible, indeed,"_ she added softly.  _"Death will be mercy for her, when it comes."_

That made goosebumps pop up on Daniel's skin as he lay back down and tried to get comfortable.  It was darker now, the lights above fading somewhat, but he thought about what he'd heard and wondered what could have happened to Reyenne to give her such disquiet. 

With a sigh of weariness, he began to meditate on a spiral, following it down into the well of his own dreams, and gave himself up to them.

 

* * *

**August 20**

Sam sat at her desk, eyes focused on the computer screen.  She didn’t know how long she’d been like that, getting nothing done and just staring off in space somewhere.  That wasn’t like her, but it was hard to work when her family was falling apart.

Daniel had checked in from Siraket shortly after arriving there the previous morning, promising to contact the SGC every three or four days with updates.  She’d been in the control room when he called in and he seemed happier already, so she hoped this separation would be a good thing for both men. 

Every day she had been to the infirmary, once when she arrived at the base, and again for a longer visit before she went home for the day.  In the evenings, Teal’c was also usually there, but he’d been assigned to SG-7 temporarily and had gone off world the previous day on an emergency rescue mission of a Tok’ra diplomat.  Carter and the Colonel were on pins and needles waiting for him to return, and she had gone by the Colonel’s room several times that day to see if he’d heard anything.

O’Neill was cranky, which Janet had said was a good sign.  It just made Sam uncomfortable, because she knew how much pain he was in from his injury.  She’d seen the wounds up close and personal, and it wasn’t going to be easy to get him back on his feet.  Glancing at the screen saver scrolling across her monitor, she decided with a sigh that her head just wasn’t in it and headed for Doctor Frasier’s office.

Janet was at her desk and greeted her with a welcoming smile as she flopped down in the guest chair across from her desk.

“Hey, Sam.  What’s up?”

“I can’t concentrate.  I’ve got to talk to somebody or I’ll crack.”

Janet laid down her pen and turned her full attention to her friend.  “Okay.  I’m listening.”

Sam sighed.  “It’s Daniel and the Colonel.  They’ve been at each other for weeks now, scrapping over every little thing, and I can’t stand it anymore.  We’re falling apart, and I have no clue how to help them, or at least make them see what they’re doing to the team.  I mean, it’s not just _them_.  It affects _all_ of us, though I doubt Teal’c would say anything.  I’ve seen the look in his eyes when they go at it.  What do I do?”

Janet smiled.  “Yeah.  Colonel O’Neill was pretty upset that Daniel would disappear without saying goodbye.  Maybe that’ll be a kind of wake-up call and get ‘em talking to each other.”

“Except that Daniel’s halfway across the galaxy and the Colonel can’t be there when he calls home.” Carter leaned forward on her knees.  “So what can I do?”

Janet sat back in her chair and clasped her hands over her lap, elbows on the armrests.  “Talked to MacKenzie about it?”

Carter shook her blonde head.  “What good would that do?  I might be able to blow off a little personal steam, but the source of the irritation would still be there as soon as Daniel gets back and we go afield again.  Daniel won’t talk to MacKenzie, and I’m sure the Colonel’s not much better at baring his soul, even though we all have to have regular sessions with the base shrink.” 

Sam sat up and ran a hand through her hair wearily.  “I’ve heard that Daniel talks about anything _but_ personal issues.  Just spends his hour talking about his work, and walks out when the time is up.” 

Janet shook her head.  “I’m not surprised.  He still resents MacKenzie for committing him… and I’m not sure I wouldn’t feel the same way, had it been me.”

“Yeah.”

Doctor Frasier leaned across the desk.  “Well, don’t tell anybody I told you, but the rumor is we’re getting a new psychiatrist on staff.  With the extra teams recently added and all the psychological traumas we get in here so often, MacKenzie can’t handle the load, so they’re going to be dividing the teams up between them.”

“Really?  Who’s the new doc?  You know anything about him—or hopefully, her?  We could always use another gal in the place.”

“Him.  And yes.  I got a peek at his service record and some of the professional work he’s done, and he comes very highly recommended.  Did a lot of post-traumatic stress work with the vets of our last several campaigns.  Name’s Doctor Adam Romani.”

“Italian?”

Janet shrugged.  “Sounds like it, but I don’t know for sure.  I _do_ know that they’ve made some special dispensations for him, though I’m not sure exactly what they are yet.  I’m supposed to be receiving his medical records today, but he’s not due in till next week.  I’m just hoping that Doctor Jackson will be among those MacKenzie shifts to Doctor Romani.”

“Daniel might not talk to Romani, either, you know.”  Sam shook her head resignedly, “and he probably needs it most of all.  Daniel turns everything inward, and he’s got a lot on his mind that he needs to get out.”

“Well, why don’t you have a chat with Doctor Romani when he gets settled, sort of give him the lay of the land?  And maybe you could request that Colonel O’Neill ask MacKenzie to put Daniel in Romani’s hands, at least temporarily?”

“Couldn’t hurt.  When’s he get to go home, anyway?”

“Tomorrow, I think.  Or when Teal’c gets back, anyway.  I think he’d want to be there with the Colonel and look after him at home, until he gets his feet back under him and can manage for himself…  Unless, of course, _you_ want to take responsibility.  There’s no way I’d put an unsuspecting nurse in the Colonel’s home even for overnight, and Colonel O’Neill will need help at home, at least for the first few days.”

Sam grinned.  “Yeah.  He’d chew up a nurse and spit her out before they got through the front door.”  She pictured waiting hand and foot on the cranky CO and shook her head.  “No, I don’t think I’m up to that either, at least not without hazard pay.”  She winked.  “I’ll be happy to help him settle in and make extended visits, but I don’t think I could handle being at his beck and call 24 hours at a stretch with him in his present mood.  I like my butt all in one piece, and don’t want to get it bitten off, thanks.”

Janet chuckled.  “Okay, then, coward.  I’ll wait for Teal’c to come home.”

Quietly, Sam added, “Thanks for being my sounding board, Janet.”

“Hey, what are friends for, anyway?”

The two women stood up and hugged briefly.  “I can always count on you,” Sam admitted happily.  “See you Saturday, okay?  That is, if the Colonel doesn’t need me.  If I can’t make it for my date with Cassie, I’ll call.”

“Sure thing.”

Sam headed back to her lab and stared at the computer screen a little longer, but this time there were directions to go.  She was already planning her meeting with the new shrink, how she’d phrase the request to the Colonel to get Daniel’s records transferred to the new doc, and wondering whether it would make Jack feel better or worse to be home, on his own, with only Teal’c and herself to chew on.

She sighed and shook her head, smiling to herself.  At least he was still alive, and one day soon, he’d be walking again.  This pain and irritation was just a temporary thing, and she’d certainly be able to forgive the guy anything he might say under the influence of those conditions, and the medication he’d no doubt be on for a while.  Everybody was getting the breathing room they really needed, and when they came back together as a team, she felt sure that they’d be able to iron out any problems they were having now.

With a renewed sense of hope buoying her spirits, she hit the spacebar on her computer and concentrated on the report she was writing, this time managing to make a little progress in her work.

 

* * *

 

 ** _Siraket_**

Reyenne was gone when Daniel rose in the morning, and he wondered how she had slipped out without waking him.  He was still tired and a little groggy, but eagerness to get started on the research prompted him to rise and step into a pair of worn jeans, grab his glasses and Boonie hat, and step outside to hunt for breakfast.  The grass felt good under his bare feet, and he hoped there weren’t any troublesome burrs hidden in it.  Socks and shoes would wait.

Ysmin knelt just outside beside a cooking fire, and smiled up at him.  “Your breakfast is almost ready,” she informed him.  “Reyenne has already left for the dig.”

“I didn’t hear her.  Usually I’m pretty good at noticing that sort of thing in camp.”

The old woman chuckled.  “And Reyenne is well trained not to disturb a sleeping man,” she said enigmatically.

Daniel sensed an opening, and hunkered down beside the fire.  “How long have you been with her?”

Dark eyes flicked up at him with a knowing gleam.  “Most of my life,” she answered simply. 

Turning her attention back to the oatmeal-like substance bubbling in the cooking pot, Ysmin added, “It will do you no good to question me about her history, Young One.  If you wish to know about her, you must seek your answers from the source.”

Frowning, Daniel knew he’d been caught, but he was patient and smart, and tried another tack.  “Then tell me about her people.  Are you Shoshani?  Your accent sounds different from hers.”

“Certainly not!  I was taken with my mother when I was very young, and traded to the Shoshani as a slave.”  Ysmin seemed almost offended.  “They are a backward people, with no respect for the wisdom of women.”  She shrugged, and the insult faded quickly.  “But, no matter.  They are scattered across the universe now; their culture all but vanished.  Reyenne is one of few who even remember who they once were.” 

“What happened to them?”

Ysmin raised her eyes to the distant ocean, her thoughts far away as she remembered.  “The gods descended upon them, Doctor Jackson.”

“The Goa’uld,” he guessed, his eyes straying up to the pyramid overshadowing the valley.

She nodded.  Serving up a bowl full of the gooey concoction, Ysmin sprinkled it with a rosy-pink powder and offered it to him, her head bowed.  When he took it, she handed him a plate with sliced fruit and a large clay cup filled with water. “I hope this pleases you.”

“Thank you.”  He accepted the food, certain he’d eat every bite to show his appreciation for her effort on his behalf. 

“So the Shoshani were made slaves,” he mused.  “What’s their lifespan?  You said Reyenne was very old.” 

His eyebrows arched as he remembered the vision of her naked form.  The Tok’ra archaeologist didn’t seem older than thirty, at the most.  “She sure doesn’t look it.”

Ysmin eyed him with a secretive smile.  “ _That_ you will have to ask my mistress.” 

She banked the fire and rose.  “I will wash your clothes from yesterday and hang them to dry while you are working today, if it pleases you, Doctor.”

“That would be wonderful,” he agreed enthusiastically.  “I figured on doing that myself, when I had time.”

“It will be one less thing for you to do, that you may spend your time more fruitfully, working with Reyenne on this important research.”  She bowed to him and started off toward the tent.

“Ysmin, thank you,” he called.  Trying a spoonful of the gruel, he discovered he liked it – whatever it was – and finished all of it, along with the strange fruits. 

Satisfied and ready for the day, he returned to the tent long enough to put on socks and shoes, gather up his implements, and head up the mountain to pick a place to begin.

He glanced at the map he’d started the previous day, recalling the different rooms that Reyenne had shown him.  The empty ones nagged at him, and he took note of their placement on the diagram.  Then he studied the mountain and tried to guess approximately where the pyramid sat above them.  He penciled it in and wondered about the significance of rooms with no decoration. 

There were few parallels in Egyptology, and he was going to have to do quite a bit of research to figure out why those four rooms were blank, and what their significance was to the rest of the maze. 

He picked out a starting point in the labyrinth just outside the blank room closest to the entrance, and set to deciphering the hieroglyphics on the walls.

It was hot work in that closed space, with no air moving in the tunnels.  He took off his vest after a couple of hours, then left his journal behind and jogged down the mountain for a canteen and some water.  He spied some of the Siraketan laborers kicking a small round ball in a game, laughing and calling to each other. 

He smiled, wishing he had time to play, and then remembered he was on a working vacation.  Taking another long swig of water, he capped the canteen, set it down near the tent door, and jogged down slope to join them.

He watched from the sidelines for a while to learn the rules, but apparently there weren’t any, aside from kicking the ball and keeping anyone else from getting it. 

When one of the men stepped out of the fray to rest and get a drink, Daniel struck up a conversation with him, surprised to note the similarities between the Siraketan language and ancient Basque. 

He stumbled a little, but picked up enough that he could ask to join their game.

Half an hour later, he was winded and grinning from ear to ear.  Playing was fun, the most fun he could remember having in a very long time.  He trudged wearily back to the tent for his canteen, refilled it and took another big drink, then waved to his new friends as he headed back for the tunnels.  They were even hotter now that his body temperature had risen from the exercise, and he took off his T-shirt, tucking the hem into the waistband at the back of his trousers.

On his way back to his journals, he heard music, something soft and sweetly sad, and followed the sound to its source.

Reyenne sat on a folding chair, sketching the symbols on the wall, singing as she worked.

“I didn’t know the Tok’ra sang,” he observed from the doorway, still a little breathless from his run.

She turned abruptly, the song dying on her lips.  For a moment she just stared at him, wide-eyed like a startled deer getting ready to bolt.

He suddenly became aware that he didn’t have his shirt on, but rather than call attention to his partial nudity, he remained as he was, hoping she’d accept it as a human custom – which it was. 

He was hot.  If he left his shirt on, he could overheat in those stifling tunnels. 

She’d just have to deal with the view of his half-naked body.

She licked her lips.  “It is a Shoshani song,” she replied huskily.  Quickly, she turned her gaze back to the journal in her lap, but her hands were trembling.  Her cheeks reddened.  “Would you like to hear it?”

He could tell she was embarrassed, and didn’t want her to be.  “Do you feel threatened, Reyenne? Because I’m not trying to, um…  I’m just hot.  I was playing kickball with the guys…”

“You need not explain to me what you do, Daniel,” she returned warmly.  “I am only a woman.”

That hit him wrong, made him angry.  “Look, I know your people think that way, but hopefully being a Tok’ra is teaching you that women _matter_ , that their minds are just as sharp as men’s, and that they’re not second-class citizens.“

She turned toward him again, but her eyes didn’t move higher than his chest and her cheeks were still flaming.  “I…  I understand this, truly.  It is only that… your body is so beautiful.  I am distracted, Daniel.”

He saw her breasts rise and fall in the shallow rhythm of desire.  Her nipples were hardened, pressing against the soft white fabric of her robe, and her amber eyes, when she managed to meet his startled gaze, were dilated with excitement.  For a moment, he could neither move nor speak.

His body reacted, and he tamped down his own desire.  “I… uh… didn’t mean to distract you, Reyenne.  I’ll let you get back to work.”

Ducking down the tunnel, he hurried back to the empty chamber where he had left his things, mentally kicking himself for being such an ass in front of Reyenne.  He knew little about her people’s culture, but one that oppressed women in such a fashion also treasured their modesty. 

 _Of course_ seeing him half naked would disturb her!

He sat down on the stone floor and leaned back against the smoothly carved wall, closing his eyes and cursing himself for being such an oaf.

But behind his eyelids, the image of Reyenne sitting in that folding chair, looking at his chest returned with a vengeance, and his imagination took flight.  He envisioned going to her, sweeping her up into his arms and kissing her.  He fantasized what it would feel like to run his hands all over her body, to make love to her right there on the floor of the temple. 

His hands trembled as he held his journal and tried desperately to ignore the hard-on beneath the book on his lap.

It had been such a long time since he’d been with a woman.  Aside from the occasional wet dream, there had been no release for him in years, not since Ke’ra, and before her…

He remembered Hathor, and his erection withered away.

Come nightfall, he promised himself, he’d go off by himself and indulge in a little fantasy.  It had been a long time since he’d done that, too, and his body needed it.  He’d have to be on guard against impropriety with Reyenne, and respect her innocence.

That, he assumed, was why she always dressed in white, and why she had a female servant.  In similar cultures, virgins were protected with constant chaperones and highly prized. 

He would treat her with respect, and avoid letting her know that he was attracted to her.

He turned back to the notes he’d been making, and sighed.  Reyenne was pretty.  She was smart and seemed nice, but he didn’t really know her.  She was also a Tok’ra, so nothing was going to happen between them.

Nothing but fantasy, powered by loneliness and need.

Daniel turned his attention back to the problem at hand, found his place in the notes, and got up to begin exploring the room again, looking for some significance to the temple’s location, or the story it told.

 

* * *

**_Stargate Command_ **

**_Earth_**

The unanticipated activation of the ‘gate set off alarms all over the place, and Sam ran for the embarkation room, half expecting Daniel to be coming home; instead, SG-4’s techno-archaeologist stepped out, breathless and dirty, looking like she’d been hip deep in some dig. 

Carter remembered when the older woman had been brought on board three years back.  Doctor S. Logan’s work had earned her the same sort of reputation as Daniel’s in the academic world – that she thought too far outside accepted theories, and was therefore a crackpot. 

However, it had been those same theories that had piqued the SGC’s interest in her.

Logan’s specialty had been ancient machines.  She had been one of the American primaries the Chinese had brought in on the dig that had unearthed all those terracotta soldiers years back, but what few people outside the Chinese government knew was that some primitive Goa’uld devices had been included in that find.  Logan had studied them before being kicked out of the country with the other foreigners on the research team when the Chinese finally understood how valuable those artifacts were, and Logan had continued researching on her own after that.

Sam had been on the team assigned to study an artifact that came in with Logan, one she had unearthed in the mountains in North Dakota.  While they had worked on it, the women developed a casual friendship filled with similar interests.  That friendship had lasted and grown, and after the disaster with Hathor, Sam had made it a point that all the women of the SGC got to know each other well.  It had been that same sisterhood that led Sam to suggest Logan as an excellent candidate for field work in addition to research, after setting up a women’s course in hand-to-hand combat.

She had expected Logan to take to the physical stuff pretty well.  What she hadn’t expected was learning a thing or two from her, or getting her plow cleaned in practices.  That was when she’d found out about Logan’s history in China, learning _kung fu_ in her spare time.  Ever afterward, they’d worked out together when they were both on base at the same time. 

Sam didn’t see her often enough, and decided to steal a few minutes of her time today, just to touch base.

“No problems, guys,” Logan declared, looking up into the control booth.  “I just needed some reference materials.” 

The brunette waved at the familiar technicians and the General watching her from above, and smiled at Sam standing in the open doorway.  Glancing back at the booth, she added, “Major Majors also thought you should know Lieutenant Sarkezian may be coming down with something.  You want us to send him back, or wait till we’re done?”

“Go ahead and send him back to base.  We’ll find a replacement for him before you return,” Hammond told her over the intercom.

She nodded, and headed for the open doorway.

“How’s it going, Logan?” Sam asked in the corridor outside.

She shrugged.  “Okay, I guess.  Same old same old,” said Doctor Logan.  The older woman tucked a lock of gray-streaked hair back behind her ear.  “Anything new and exciting happen while I was off world?”

Sam frowned.  “Oh, then you haven’t heard.  Colonel O’Neill’s in the infirmary.”

Logan’s eyes went wide.  “Is he okay?  What happened?  Anybody else hurt?”

“He’s going to be fine, just in pretty rough shape at the moment,” Sam assured her.  “The rest of us are okay.  Teal’c’s buddying up with other SGC teams, Daniel’s off world on some Tok’ra archaeological dig and I’m up to my armpits in research.  Why don’t you go see the Colonel?  I know he’d enjoy the company.”

Logan gave her an enigmatic little half-smile and glanced down at her dirty BDUs.  “I’ll stop by the infirmary after I have a shower and some food.  You sure he’s okay?”

“Yeah.  Just grouchy.”

“Same Jack O’Neill we all know and love.”  Logan started toward the locker room.  “Hey, does this mean some down time for you?”

“Yeah.  I get to handle back-burner stuff for a while.  I thought Daniel would be doing the same, or else they’d saddle us with a new recruit and keep the team out there under my command, but I guess not, with just two of us here.”

Sam shrugged, trying to look like she was handling all this with aplomb.  “Still, down time has its appeal.  All that quiet.  Regular hours.  Regular meals.  Handy bathrooms…”  Sam couldn’t help the wistfully pleased expression on her face.

Logan laughed.  “ _Oh_ , yeah!  Hey, maybe this weekend I can take you for a ride on my new Harley.  We should be finished with this mission by then.”  She grinned at Sam’s whoop of joy.  “Just don’t drool on my ride, okay?”

“I’ll bring napkins, I swear!  Say, how about Teal’c and I join you for the rest of the mission, and then we can hook up with your new ride when we get back?”

“Sounds good.  You wanna clear that with the Big Guy, while I go powder my nose and raid my library?”

Sam turned away, beaming.  She’d been having a hard time sorting through her thoughts and deciding what to work on, but now there was something positive to anticipate, something fun for a change.  Maybe that would help her put her mind to her job, instead of wandering back to the friction between her teammates.

Her smile disappeared as she thought about that unpleasant subject, and wished there was something she could do about it, some way to fix what was broken between them, but she wasn’t sure that was something anyone could do, aside from the men themselves.  With a sigh, she headed upstairs to ask the General for permission to accompany SG-4 off world.

 

* * *

 

Teal’c stood in the embarkation room, waiting to leave on the mission with SG-4.  He had been out with this team twice and felt comfortable with them, but especially with Doctor Logan.  She always went out of her way to make him welcome, and he appreciated that.

The leader of the team was Major Majors – he found her name oddly pleasant, but didn’t understand the other humans’ references to something called ‘Catch-22.’  The Major was about Carter’s age and had grown up in the military. 

As Colonel O’Neill would have said, she had the Air Force in her blood.

Teal’c enjoyed the opportunity to experience the different leadership style of Major Majors, and compare her way to O’Neill’s.  He looked forward to getting to know the others in the group as well: Lieutenant Derek Hernandez, an eager young man with a gift for technology, also a three-year veteran at the SGC; along with Lieutenant Jay Sarkezian, who was a new recruit and had served on SG-4 for only a few months.

Their latest mission was to explore P3X-987 and the ruins a UAV had located.  Between the initial electronic exploration and setting out through the gate, Lieutenant Sarkezian had contracted influenza and Major Carter had volunteered to take his place.  She’d suggested Teal’c go along as well, and Hammond had approved.

Once through the ‘gate, they rejoined SG-4 and set out across a crumbling road that led to the temple that was the focus of this mission, walking warily and watching for signs of danger from indigenous people or interlopers, but all seemed quiet. 

The temple was well over a day’s journey from the gate, and they camped out in a grassy patch near the road.  Hernandez and Majors took first watch while Logan prepared the MREs and sat down with Teal’c and Carter to eat.

“So what’s happening with DJ?  Any news on that tasty dig he’s working on for the Tok’ra?”  Logan handed out plastic forks and looked down into her meal pouch.  She frowned.

“Tasty,” Carter repeated with a lopsided grin.  “Only _you_ would call it that, Logan.”  She shook her head in amusement, certain she’d never understand archeologists.  “Yeah, it’s supposed to be some big deal.  We don’t know much about it, because – let’s face it, it’s a Tok’ra dig.  They don’t tell us _anything_.”  
  
”Though it is likely very important,” Teal’c added, “or they would not have requested the Tau’ri’s best archaeologist.”  He started, realizing that might have insulted the woman. “No offense was intended to you, DoctorLogan.”

“None taken,” she assured him with a grin.  “I know DJ’s _way_ better at this than the rest of us.  He’s a friggin’ genius.”  She sighed.  “I just wish he got more credit for that.”  Her eyes were sad as she raised them to the other two.  “Is it just the military mindset, or Daniel’s personality that keeps him from getting his propers?  You guys know what I’m talking about, right?”

Teal’c’s dark brows twitched together.  “Propers?  I do not know this word.”

“Sorry.  Aretha Franklin reference, there, T.  Proper _respect_.”

Teal’c pondered the reference.  “Aretha Franklin, Queen of Soul.  I do not understand how one can rule only the soul.”

Sam grinned.  “So much for you to learn, Teal’c.”  
Her smile faded as she turned back to Logan.  “I really don’t know.  Maybe it’s that Daniel doesn’t push for his point of view.  He won’t fight for what he knows is right.”

“You mean he won’t fight _Jack,”_ Logan corrected with a sigh.  She nodded.  “I’ve worked with DJ enough to have heard the grumbles and complaints.  I’ve seen you guys together and know who the alpha male is, and DJ bends to him like a willow in the wind.  Doesn’t he believe in himself enough?  Hell, he knows more about what’s going on out here than most folks.”

“Are you just sounding off, or actually going somewhere with this, Logan?” Sam inquired gently.

The brunette heaved a heavy sigh.  “Just blowing smoke, I guess.  It pisses me off that the academics get shrugged off so easily in this endeavor.”

 _“You_ don’t,” Carter grinned.  “I’ve seen you in action.”

Logan shook her head, smiling down at the first forkful of food, on its way to her mouth.  “Yeah.  That’s because I’m a cranky old fart who can whip my CO’s ass, and she knows it.” 

She winked at Sam and flashed a broad smile at Teal’c. 

The smile vanished suddenly. She regarded the MRE pouch with a mighty frown. “This tastes like chicken,” the archaeologist observed unhappily after the first bite went down.

Carter grinned, noting that the package read ‘vegetable soup.’  “That is _so_ a Daniel comment,” she observed, shaking her head.

Logan’s green eyes rolled up to hers.  “Is that a compliment, Sam, or should I be offended?”

Sam laughed.  “Now you sound like the Colonel.”

 _“Now_ I’m offended,” Logan quipped, arching a dark eyebrow.  “Hey, did I ever tell you how Jack and I met?”

“Nope.  I know you came in with that ancient transporter prototype they dug up in the Dakotas, but that’s about all.”

Logan grinned and shook her head.  “It’s funny, really.  First time I laid eyes on him, I knew why he was there.  See, I was the one who found that machine, and kept it all to myself while I did the initial research on it.  I wanted to be able to prove my theories about the ancient machines I’d studied—“

“Which were dead-on, by the way,” Sam interjected.  “The SGC had its collective eye on you for a couple of years before we invited you in.”

“I know that _now._   But at the time, I thought it was just the military sticking its nose where it didn’t belong, and trying to steal my discovery.  That Air Force uniform came up to me and said ‘I’m taking that machine’ and I said ‘like hell’ and punched him in the nose.  Knocked him flat on his ass in his pretty blue uniform.”

Carter laughed as she imagined the scene.

Teal’c smiled and shook his head, obviously doing the same.  He, too, had seen the woman in action and knew she was an accomplished martial artist.  “I would have enjoyed seeing that, DoctorLogan.”

“Yeah, well, when the troops that came with him wrestled me to the ground and put several guns to my head, it wasn’t nearly as funny.”  She grinned, her face relaxing a little.  “Of course, once he got up, dusted his uniform off and got the nosebleed under control, he told me I was invited to come _with_ the machine, to help figure out what it was for.”

Sam chuckled.  “I’d have _paid_ to see that.”  She shook her head and made eye contact with the woman.  “So why haven’t you and the Colonel, you know, gone out together?  You both love the same stuff.”

Logan gave her a weird look, her answering smile lopsided.  “Have you forgotten I’m a scientist?  You know how he feels about us.”

The Major shrugged.  “Yeah, well, he’s kinda gotten used to Daniel and me.  What’s one more?”

“He spends more time with you guys.  I start talking to him about anything _but_ sports and he gets this deer-in-the-headlights look and runs away.  It’d never work.”

“But you’d like for it to, right?”

The archaeologist finished the last of her MRE and stuffed the empty package into their garbage bin.  “What I’d _like_ to do with him I can’t say in mixed company.  No offense, Teal’c.”

“You wish to mate with ColonelO’Neill?” he asked bluntly, guessing what she meant.  “As long as you do not attempt conversation with him, you might be successful.”

Both women laughed.  “You’re right about that, buddy,” Logan agreed, “but I’ll just keep my nose in the books and remind myself I’m a geek.  And too old to be playing those games.”

“You are not old,” Teal’c corrected.  “You are strong and healthy, and a great warrior.  Gray hairs do not make one old.”

Logan got up and gave the Jaffa a kiss on the cheek.  “Keep talking like that, my man, and I’ll be sneaking into _your_ sleeping bag!” she teased.

He shot her a startled look.

“Just kidding, big guy.  I know you’re a married man.”  With an informal salute to Sam, she got up and headed for the tent they had erected for the night.  “See y’all in the morning.”

Sam looked at Teal’c.  “She’s fun.”

Teal’c nodded.  “I will relieve MajorMajors, so that she may enjoy her MRE.”

“And I’ll take watch for Hernandez.  See you bright and early, Teal’c.”

 

* * *

**_On a Distant World_ **

**_Hall of the Ashraks_ **

 

The council of seven stood in a circle, observing the ancient rites.  Incense perfumed the air, slightly chilly in the underground chamber.  The silence was broken by the chime of a tiny bell announcing the arrival of the eighth Ashrak.  She took her place on the diagram carved into the floor and filled with molten gold, polished to a perfect mirror sheen eons past.

“What news, Wadjet?” asked Sekhmet, her voice a soft velvet purr.

The new arrival bowed and put back the hood that covered her blonde hair.  She smiled broadly, her blue eyes gleaming with joy.  “I have discovered the Tau’ri’s Alpha colony.  Plans are already under way to destroy it.  My mistress, Bastet, has chosen to take that pleasure for herself.”

Sekhmet cocked her copper head thoughtfully.  “I have a better use for the colony,” she advised.  “Suggest to your mistress that it may be wise to wait.”

Anuket’s eyes narrowed.  “To what purpose?”

“Our lady, Neith, has need of it,” replied Sekhmet, and bowed to the woman beside her.

Neith inclined her dark head regally, as befitting one of her age and station in the Goa’uld hierarchy.  She preferred the hunt to ruling worlds and had chosen to be the first Ashrak, serving Anubis most often, but not always.  Now, it seemed, intrigues among the System Lords made the need for Ashraks greater than ever, and the challenges to the Goa’uld assassins were all but impossible.  The Tok’ra were few and hid themselves well, and the System Lords turned to other targets.

Top of the list were the Tau’ri themselves.

Discovery of the colony was a great find and would be a deeply felt blow, were the Goa’uld to strike them down, but Neith had other ideas.  She smiled at her fellow assassins – most of them more like grandchildren than brothers and sisters.

“The Tau’ri will maintain connections to their precious colony,” Neith assured the others.  “There will be comings and goings through the _chaapa’ai_.  They will exchange information, and key personnel will come and go on the second world.”  She regarded Mafdet, the dark-skinned beauty who had served most often beneath the aegis of Nirrti, before the goddess of darkness had been killed by the Tau’ri. “With the invisibility device Mafdet possesses, we may spy upon them unseen and lay the hand of death upon those our masters deem worthy.  We have a plan to do the same upon the First World.”

Mafdet bowed deeply to Neith.  “I can have the devices duplicated, so that each of us may have one, enabling us to travel wherever we wish.”

“The military camps where the Stargates are housed have tight security,” Neith explained.  “The areas surrounding those bases, however, are not protected.  One of us will take a cloaked ship, following in the trail of a comet, and slip in among them, sending information to our masters and carrying out their orders.”  She laughed softly.  “We shall learn the ways of the Tau’ri and blend in among them, invisible in plain sight.  Who will be first to go among them?”

Mihos nodded, his curly golden hair winking in the torchlight.  “It is a good plan, my lady Neith.  I look forward to many hunts among the Tau’ri.  I will take the Alpha colony.”

Anat stepped into the center of the circle.  “I will go to the First World,” she stated proudly.  “I will study these humans for the glory of the Goa’uld, and strike when the time is right.”  A gold circlet on her brow sported the crescent moon that was her personal symbol as mistress of the sky.  “Please tell my master, Anubis, that I will wait to do his bidding.”

For the moment, none of the System Lords knew of the Ashrak plan.  Bastet would be first to hear it, in order to dissuade her from destroying the colony.  Each of the others would tell their masters, all but Anat.  She would tell him in time, once a base of operations had been established on the First World.  He would be pleased that his personal assassin had volunteered to live among the Tau’ri, pleased that Anat had so eagerly taken up his service again once he had revealed himself at the summit not long ago. 

He had trained her personally, and she was among the best of her kind. 

Only Neith herself was better at stealthy death.

Anat dropped to one knee and shed her black robe.  When she rose again, she received the blessing of all the others, put on a pure white gown and returned through the rings to her small transport vessel to wait for Mafdet’s gift. The coordinates for the First World were received and programmed into the _peltak_ , and in a few days’ time, Anat was on her way to the world where Ra had first discovered humans.

Death would still come to them, Anat dreamed, but not exclusively as the rain of fire from the gods.  No, this time it would also come in the shadows, a little at a time, laying the foundation for the annihilation that would inevitably arrive.  Whether by plague or radiation or some other means of mass destruction, Anat would witness the final defeat of the Tau’ri. 

And she would be instrumental in preparing the way for their extinction to arrive.

 

* * *

**August 22**

**Stargate Command**

**Earth**

The ‘gate closed after SG-4 disembarked, the group weary and dirty after days in the dirt studying the Goa’uld ruins they had found.  Carter headed for the showers along with Logan and Majors, and when the women had refreshed themselves, they gave the locker room up to the men.  Sam headed for the infirmary, chatting with the archaeologist amiably and making arrangements to meet up later for some social time.

Colonel O’Neill was frowning at Doctor Frasier as she went over the schedule she wanted him to keep and explained about all the medications and restrictions he’d have to observe.  Sam caught a lot of it, and promised herself to get a full repeat before she and Teal’c left the base with their human baggage. 

Before Jack caught sight of her, she ducked back out into the hallway to wait for the Jaffa to join her, and for Janet to come out and do the honors for both of them.

O’Neill wasn’t the type to obey doctor’s orders or even pass them on to his caregivers, so it was up to them to take that duty upon themselves.  It would be another week or so before he would be walking on crutches, and O’Neill would require assistance to do even simple things at home during that early recovery time.  Doctor Frasier had kept O’Neill in the infirmary until Teal’c returned, and now that he was back, the Jaffa put away his gear, changed into civilian clothes and headed to the infirmary to take charge of his commanding officer.

Just as he was wheeling the man out to the parking lot, Carter joined them and offered to drive them in her Volvo. 

Teal’c carried Jack through the doorway of his house while Carter dragged the wheelchair up the steps and into the living room.  She brought the plastic tub with all the medications in it next, and pulled the door closed behind them.  Both houseguests knew their way around Jack’s home as well as their own, and they set about preparing things to care for an invalid patient in his home. 

Teal’c settled O’Neill on the brown leather sofa in his den and handed him the remote control to the television.

“Is the game on yet?” Sam asked, heading to the kitchen for the beer.

Jack punched the button and switched on ESPN, just as the puck was dropped on the ice.

“And we’re off!” he called to her, his eyes glued to the television screen.  “Thanks, T.”

“You are welcome, O’Neill.”  The big man settled into an armchair and took off the baseball cap that had covered his golden tattoo out in the human world.  He glanced at the wheelchair parked nearby.  “Can you use the chair if you need to go elsewhere in the house, or will you require my assistance?”

“I’m fine, Teal’c.  You tired?”  Jack didn’t take his eyes off the screen, and sounded distinctly distracted.

“I must _kel’no’reem_ , if you do not need me.”

“Oh, sure, buddy.  Go ahead.  Carter can help me if I need anything.”

Just then the telephone rang and Teal’c rose to answer it, but it stopped ringing just before his hand touched the instrument.  He glanced at O’Neill, who shrugged in response, and retreated to the den for a little quiet time.

A moment later, Sam yelled from the kitchen, “It’s for you, sir.”  She came into the room as she finished the sentence, beer in hand, and set one down on the table next to him.

“Who else would it be for?”  He stared forlornly at the beer and pouted.  “I can’t have one,” he moaned.  “They don’t mix with the pain killers.”

Sam beamed and shrugged.  “Okay!  More for me.” 

She handed him the portable phone she had picked up in the kitchen.

“Hello?”  His eyes went back to the TV.  “Yeah, this is Colonel O’Neill, Daniel’s friend.”  He paused, listening.  Then he frowned.  “Uh, can you hang on a minute?”

Sam wandered into the room with a soft drink for him.

“Hey, Carter,” Jack called.  “You remember Emma, Daniel’s neighbor?  The lady who’s lookin’ after his cat for him?”

“Yeah.  How’s she doing?”  The Major sipped her drink, but didn’t sit down.

“Seems she broke her hip and can’t watch the cat or take care of the fish while Daniel’s gone, and wanted to know if we could handle that for him.”

“Sure,” Sam said brightly.  “I’ll have to do the fish, though, because I’m having my house sprayed and don’t want the cat to get sick.  Is Emma okay?”

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud!” he snapped crossly.  He frowned up at her and heaved a heavy sigh.  “Yeah, she’s fine.  You got waterbugs?”

“Yeah, and ants.  Here, give me the phone and I’ll tell her I’m coming.  I’ll have my beer when I get back.”

Jack looked stricken.  “You sure you can’t take the cat?  You know how I am with that thing.”

“Zoe loves you, Colonel,” Sam assured him with a smile.  “She’ll be fine, and besides, Teal’c will be here and I’ll be dropping by pretty often.  It’ll be fun.”

He waited until she was on her way out the door to add, “Sure.  It’ll be a blast...  Cats!  Why couldn’t Daniel have gotten a dog?”

Sam didn’t miss a beat.  “Because he’s a very smart man and knows the value of an animal that’s not emotionally needy.”

That made him look at her directly.  “Oh, come on!  I thought sure you’d be a dog person.”

She shrugged and picked up the beer bottle, heading back for the kitchen.  “I am.  I love all animals equally.  I can just appreciate their virtues and faults without the prejudice _some_ people show.”

He kept his further commentary to himself and turned back to watch the game, grumbling in the privacy of his own head about women and cats.

Alone now in the room, he mumbled softly, “I don’t even know why Daniel _has_ that damn cat.  He’s off world more than he’s home, and constantly having to try to find someone else to take care of it.”

Something in his chest twinged as he remembered when Daniel had gotten the little beast. 

They had just returned from a disastrous mission where, try as they might, the aliens they had been trying to save were destroyed by the Goa’uld.  Daniel had taken it badly, and despite the fact that he was in perfect health when they returned, the younger man had called in sick the next day.

Jack had gone to Daniel’s apartment to check on him, and found him nursing this tiny, bloody little scrap of fur that a dog had used for a chew-toy.  The kitten seemed to symbolize the people they had lost, and Jackson had poured his whole soul into caring for the creature, just holding it and seeing to its every need, encouraging it to live. 

O’Neill had stayed with him over the next two days, taking turns caring for the beast so at least one of them could get some sleep.

Once the crisis was over, Jack advised him to find a home for the kitten, reminding Daniel that he’d be gone more than he’d be home.  Next time he’d gone to visit, there was the cat and Zoe, as Daniel had named her, owned him body and soul.  He talked to the little monster like she understood his every word, doted on her and lavished her with affection.

It was almost sickening.  Jack had teased him about it mercilessly, but underneath, O’Neill knew what the animal symbolized to him.  The name ‘Zoe’ meant ‘Life,’ and that was what Daniel needed her for, as a reminder that Life deserved to be nurtured and enjoyed.  The cat had helped filled the void left when Shau’ri died, kept Daniel from being completely alone.

But lately, Daniel had been spending less and less of his free time with his team, using the cat as an excuse. 

Jack supposed guilt might be part of that, but suspected there might be other reasons keeping Daniel away, and Zoe gave him reason to decline invitations to hang out with them.  That made Jack frown, wondering once again why Daniel had separated himself from them, why he had said his goodbye when Jack was sleeping, rather than wait till he was up – or wake him, if Daniel were in such a hurry to leave.

None of that particular contemplation sat well on Jack’s mind, but by the end of the first period, Sam was back with the cat and all its paraphernalia, and he was so distracted by the little monster that his concerns vanished utterly.  Sam put its litter box in his bathroom and its food and water bowls in the kitchen, then turned the critter loose in his living room.  It went straight for the den and jumped up on him, walking around on his belly and looking down at him with those Daniel-blue eyes as if it expected him to pet it.

Sam did, and that seemed to be enough.  It jumped off him and went to wander around the house and explore its new digs.

“I’ve got to go, Colonel,” Carter finally told him with a pat on the shoulder.  “Lots to do at the lab.  I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure, and thanks,” he told her warmly.  She let herself out, and he turned back to the television.

The cat was on top of the entertainment center, its long tail dangling down in front of the TV screen.

“Cats,” he mumbled under his breath.  He watched the game, shouting at the screen and throwing wads of newspaper at the cat for entertainment when it was over.  He flipped channels for a while, wishing he could get up and do something.  Jack hated being indolent, and fidgeted as he thought about what he should be doing.

He remembered his guitar, and gingerly tried to stand and hobble over to the closet where he kept it, but that was a seriously bad mistake, and with a howl of pain, he crashed back onto the sofa and reached for the bottle of Vicodin the good doctor had given him.

“Are you all right, O’Neill?” Teal’c asked, hurrying into the room.

“Yeah,” Jack griped, grimacing and clutching his thigh.  “I just learned it’s too early for me to try to stand up yet.”  His face was contorted with pain, and he sat hunched over his leg until the medication began to take effect.  “Hey, Teal’c, would you mind getting me something?”

“It would be my pleasure.”  He offered a gracious bow, hands clasped behind his back.

“There’s a guitar case in the closet of my study.  Big black thing.  Ya can’t miss it.”

Moments later, Teal’c returned with the case and handed it over.  “Please, do not hesitate to call should you require anything.  I do not mind.”

Jack frowned.  “Yeah, T, I know and I’m grateful.  I just hate like hell to have to ask.  Guess I’ve gotta get used to doing it anyway, huh?”

“That you do, until your mobility returns.  Do you wish anything else?”

“Nah.  Thanks, Teal’c.”

The Jaffa bowed and retreated again to the study.

Jack opened the case and lifted the acoustic guitar out carefully, mindful of his balance as he leaned over the coffee table where it lay.  The curved wooden body settled against him like the old friend it was, and he spent a moment tuning it before he started to play.  He looked at the rosebud inlaid in the head between the tuning pegs, and thought of home.  The instrument had seen a lot, been with him to many places, but it seemed he never picked it up anymore until he was injured and had nothing else to do.

“You’re always there for me, aren’t you?” he asked it quietly. 

The pain medication made him high, and his brain didn’t work as well.  He found himself idly plucking the strings, unable to think of anything in particular to play.  He let his eyes rove around the room, and eventually they landed on a photo above the television, one taken off world of his team, with him standing in the middle.

He stared at the photo, and noted that everyone was smiling except Daniel.

“Aw, nuts,” he grumbled.  He didn’t want to think about that.  He’d been avoiding it for months, maybe even years, and now was no time to start analyzing what had gone wrong between them.  With as much time as he was about to have on his hands, that painful subject was sure to be uppermost on his mind.

 _Jack, you stupid son of a bitch_.

The words came back to him with a flash of anger.  Daniel had said that right after Jack had taken out the android threatening the base.  Jackson had taken a liking to the machine, but it _was_ just that, after all. 

_A machine._

Granted, Reese could think and react with simulated emotion.  It got to Daniel, tugging at his sympathies until he was protecting it like a child, but it couldn’t really feel.  It wasn’t alive.  Not really.

Jack frowned.  Maybe that wasn’t what had been important, after all.  Maybe the way _Daniel_ felt about Reese was what Jack should have taken into consideration.  Even though the android had cracked Daniel’s skull and darn near broken his wrist, he was still trying to reason with it to the end.  And he had believed he’d gotten through, just before Jack busted into the ‘gate room and shot it.

Daniel had been in the infirmary while Jack saw to cleaning up the mess Reese left behind, but as soon as Frasier had his arm in a sling, the archaeologist had been taking charge of getting the android packed up and ready to ship off to the Asgard.  It had taken them a few weeks to contact the aliens and arrange for the pickup on Cimmeria, and the whole time Daniel had been distant, begging off social outings and busying himself with extra work he didn’t have to do, just to have an excuse not to spend time with his team.

At first, Jack let him be mad and gave him time to cool off.  Once the android was gone, he’d figured out of sight would be pretty much out of mind, but it hadn’t worked out that way. 

Daniel wasn’t exactly sullen or even stand-offish, just all business… or gone.

It had taken a couple more weeks for the tension to fade between them, and Jack had tried to make believe things were back to normal, but the younger man hadn’t been his usual chatterbox self on missions after that. 

On this last one, he’d been positively withdrawn.

It had been the second day when Daniel had approached him, asking to make contact with the natives on P24-640 while Carter fiddled with that alien machine.  The request had irritated Jack, because the planetary survey had already been completed by another SG team.  It would have given the archaeologist something to do besides pull guard duty, but Jack didn’t want him wandering off and getting himself hurt or captured by those supposedly friendly natives. 

Daniel had a tendency to do that, and it invariably got him into trouble.

Thinking back over the situation, it might well have deterred the attack if Daniel had talked with them.  Or, his attempt to meet and greet might have gotten them into hot water a lot sooner, _before_ Carter had finished her work on that machine, and that wouldn’t have made _anybody_ happy.

Jack studied his leg, throbbing now with a vivid reminder of what had happened in that canyon.

He’d heard the screams after he killed that man, and realized with horror what the alien had been protecting.  Jack would probably have done the same thing if he’d thought a bunch of kids were being threatened, and that didn’t sit well on his conscience. 

If Daniel had talked to those people, if he’d made them understand that SG-1 were just exploring, that they were peaceful, the attack _might not have happened at all_.

With a sinking feeling, he admitted to himself Daniel had been right, and that a man was dead because Jack had made the wrong decision.  His injury was his own pig-headed fault.  Yet still, Daniel had picked him up and carried him through the ‘gate when he could have run for safety alone.

Only that wasn’t the way Jack commanded.  Everybody knew his most important rule: nobody gets left behind.

_Go.  Just go, Jack!  I’m dead already._

Daniel had been in tremendous pain when he’d made that tearful plea, his lifeblood flowing out onto his clothes.  He had lain on the floor of Apophis’s ship, smelling of scorched flesh after being hit with a Jaffa staff weapon.  The wound had been fatal, and both of them had known it.  It had only been a matter of time, and they had to finish the mission to save Earth.

_I’ll watch your back._

And Jack had turned away and left him there, knowing Daniel would keep his word until his last breath. 

He could argue that their whole world was at stake, and he couldn’t risk the time to haul a dying man around with them while they tried to destroy the Goa’uld invaders.  He could have said that Daniel was right to sacrifice himself for his planet and his people, and Jack could have comforted himself with the fact that the clever man had dragged his dying body to the false god’s sarcophagus and healed himself, regaining the mobility to escape in the last seconds before the ship had blown up.

Still, when it came right down to it, Jack _had_ left Daniel behind when he’d swore to all of them that he’d never do that.

 _Never._   Because he knew what it felt like. 

He had watched Colonel Frank Cromwell retreat with his troops, leaving Jack behind to fend for himself.  Four months in an Iraqi prison had nearly broken him, but when he’d returned home, suffering from the torture and the addiction they had forced on him to get him to reveal information, he promised himself he would never allow anyone under his command to live with the same fate.

Yet he _had_ done it.  Not just once, but over and over.  And _always to Daniel_.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillow with a sigh and an inward curse as memory after memory assaulted him with the truth.

Was that why Daniel was mad at him?  Maybe it was just one reason out of many.  He’d have to think things through, look over his behavior of the last several months to see if there were more, and if so, he’d have a lot of apologizing to do when Daniel got home.

_“Murr?”_

Daniel’s cat jumped up on the sofa and started to tread lightly on Jack’s bandaged leg.

“Ow!” Jack scooped the cat up and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor.  The guitar jostled against his leg and he howled again.

The cat ran away, and Jack fell back against the pillows, grimacing and wishing he could just sleep through his entire recovery.  It took a few minutes for the agony to recede to tolerable levels, and when it did he simply stayed where he was.  The pain medication was making him drowsy again, and he laid the guitar aside on the floor, closed his eyes, and let himself slide quickly into sleep, and dreams of happier days.

 

* * *

**_Siraket_**

Daniel sat with his back to the stack of books, concentrating on his notes.  Two books were laid out on the rug beside him, open to appropriate pages for reference, but they weren’t enough help.  He put his journal down on one of them and got up to search through the other books on one of the worktables.  His boxers were riding up and he tugged them down slightly, just as one of Reyenne’s open journals caught his eye.  
  
The drawing was beautifully done, obviously copied off one of the temple murals.  The subject matter was explicitly sexual in nature, though its symbolic meaning wasn’t quite what the scene actually depicted: the jackal-headed god having intercourse with a weeping woman.  Reyenne’s interpretation of the symbolism, written in the language of the Tok’ra, was correct, and he turned around to find the woman standing in the doorway, her hair still wet from her evening bath.

She was half smiling, and he immediately wondered if she had watched him de-wedge his boxers.

Now it was his turn to blush.

He turned back to the books and, finding the one he wanted, returned to his bed for further study.

Reyenne padded around the room, attending to her nightly routine and ignoring him for a few minutes.  Then she stepped outside.

“Daniel, will you come to the festival tomorrow?” she called through the tent flap.  “Xosher wishes to know.”

Xosher was one of the men from the Siraketan village that Daniel had played soccer with earlier in the day.  He folded the journal around his finger and stepped outside, oblivious of his underwear.  He spoke briefly to the man and learned that the natives would be celebrating a hunter’s festival over the next three days, during which no digging would be done.  All the able men would be out in the forests, seeking the biggest game or the most, as a stockpile of meat to feed the villagers over the coming rainy season.

Daniel wasn’t sure exactly what they were asking – if he was meant to be a guest and observe, or if they wanted him to join the hunt.  He didn’t like killing things, and if pressed, would be happy to eat MREs rather than some animal he had to watch die and be butchered.  He declined as politely as he knew how, and ducked back into the tent to return to his studies.

Reyenne thanked Xosher and made sure he was okay with the refusal, but the native didn’t seem to mind, understanding that they were foreigners and had different customs.

She returned to the tent and took one of her journals to bed with her, intending to write more on her notes.

“I didn’t make him mad, did I?” Daniel asked, watching her kneel gracefully and sweep the hem of her gown modestly beneath her as she curled up with her book.

Reclining back against her pillow, she gave him a smile over her shoulder.  “No.  He understood you have no stomach for hunting.”

“I just don’t like killing,” he admitted.  His back was starting to ache from all the cramped sitting postures of the day, so he rolled over the open books and onto the carpet on his belly, adjusting his position so he faced her.

“I respect this,” she told him brightly.  “I also do not like killing.  You may have noticed that Ysmin prepares vegetarian fare for us.”

“I hadn’t noticed, but I don’t have a problem with it.  I mean, I eat meat, but I don’t want to have to kill it myself.”  He glanced up at her, and found her staring down at him.  There was something curious in her gaze.  “What?”

She hesitated.  “Your eyes, Daniel.”  She laid her journal aside and reached down to gently remove his glasses.  Reyenne leaned close, almost nose to nose.  “My people do not have eyes this color.”  Smiling, she touched his temple with her fingertips.  “Your eyes are like the sky, blue and hot and…”

Her smile faded.

He felt himself hardening against the carpet, and was glad she couldn’t see his whole body.  It was going to be a while before he could roll over, and all he could think about was kissing her.  She was so close, so _there…_

Carefully, she slipped his glasses back on and straightened up.

He adjusted the frames on his nose and pushed them into place, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  She seemed to be so composed, sitting there studying her work, but her hands were trembling.  Her body told him she was excited again.  Excited _by him_. 

She _wanted_ him.

And she probably didn’t even know it.

“Tell me about the Sennetna,” he asked her.  “Did I say that right?”

Her cheeks colored again, and she spoke without looking up from her studies.  “The Sennetna are the highest caste of women among the Shoshani.  They are educated and refined, sought after for their intelligence and wisdom.  Their counsel is a rare treasure, and they hold the secrets of all the great men of our land in their minds.”

“So you were one of them,” he guessed.  “Your father must have been proud of you.”

Reyenne took a deep breath.  Something hard glinted in her eyes as she glared at him, her quick gaze like the flick of a whip.  “The day my father gave me to the school, my family attended my funeral.  I was dead to them afterward.”

Daniel frowned.  “But why?”

Her chin raised slightly.  “Because having a Sennetna for a daughter brought shame on a household.”

“Simply because you were _educated_?”  His heavy brows scrunched together.  “How can they prize you and shun you all at the same time?  I’m sorry, Reyenne.  I just don’t get it.”

She lifted her eyes from the book and aimed them skyward.  Then they closed.  She took a deep breath and sighed.  “Because the Sennetna were educated not only for the sake of intelligence, but that they might communicate easily with important men.  Sennetna never left the school, once we entered it.  Men came to us, to court us and gain our favor... and entrance to our beds.”

He was dumbstruck.  Somehow, he never expected that revelation.  She had been a geisha, a courtesan.  And he had thought she was a virgin.

“Oh.”  He was relieved, once he thought about it.  “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Reyenne.  You did what you had to do.  You learned important things.  You actually escaped a kind of prison, when you joined that school.  There’s nothing worse than an empty mind, hungering for knowledge.”

She leveled him with those amber eyes, now haunted by some memory. 

“Oh, yes, Daniel.  There are things _far worse_ than ignorance.”  Reyenne seemed to huddle up into herself then, arms folding around her slender body as if to hold something inside.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” he asked gently, sensing her pain.

A tear rolled down her cheek.  She pretended it wasn’t there, maintaining her silence, staring at the same page on her journal.  “Thank you for offering, but mine is not a tale for the faint of heart.”

He almost smiled.  “Hey, if that’s a slam about me not being a macho hunter guy...” 

He’d meant it as a friendly tease, but it didn’t move her or lighten her mood. 

Daniel sat up, his groin relaxed after the shift in topic.  He scooted close to her, embracing his knees as he faced her.  “Reyenne, if you need to talk about anything, I hope you’ll see me as a friend you can come to.  Okay?”

Her eyes met his, and she nodded.  “Thank you for your concern, Daniel.  I bear my burdens alone.”

He nodded and returned to his spot on the floor, still facing her.  He kekpt thinking about what she had said, and realized that he had never before seen a Tok’ra weep, nor had he ever known one so reticent.  Tok’ra were by nature arrogant, forceful individuals, but this one was quiet, almost shy. 

He pondered this enigmatic being, and what a contradiction she was.

She remained silent until she finally retired and slipped under the covers, nude as always. 

This time, Daniel didn’t look away as she undressed, watching her openly as she removed her clothes.  She did not look at him, and sighed into sleep as he blew out the lamps and settled into his own bed, with visions of naked women leading him into dreams.

 

* * *

**_Somewhere in Space_**

Osiris finished the final adjustments to her ornamentation and finery, and dismissed the slaves who had dressed her.  One more glance in the mirror showed that she was beautiful as ever, the shimmering gold in the tissue wrap around her shoulders setting off the golden highlights in her hair.  The heavy gold necklace was warming to skin temperature, and the lapis stones glistened with the same blue as her eyes.

Movement in the mirror made her turn, a sharp word on her tongue for the slave who had dared to disturb her, but she bit it back when she saw the figure in the dark robe moving stealthily toward her.

“You are well, my lord?” she asked softly, and bowed ever so slightly.

A groan issued from the dark depths of the hooded figure.  “This body grows weary, Osiris,” he growled.  “I fear it will not last until my plan to conquer the System Lords is accomplished.”

She struck a pose, aware how her bright beauty contrasted to his blasted ugliness.  “Then we shall find you a new one,” she answered simply.  “One that is young and strong and comely.” 

Daniel Jackson’s face flitted across her mind, with a twinge of wistfulness brushing her consciousness, the shadow of her host’s memory.  She smiled, aware that particular body would be very hard to get, but immensely satisfying to have as her peer.

Anubis grunted with pain and sat down hard upon the stool she had just left.  The jarring motion made his hood slip, and she caught a glimpse of the ruined face beneath it.  She sucked in a revolted breath, and turned away.

“My appearance disgusts you,” he observed, looking at her reflection in the mirror, his dark eyes avoiding his own face.

“I cannot…  What agony you must be in, my son,” she whispered, trying desperately to think of something appropriately placatory to say to him. 

She had no sympathy for him and he knew it.  Theirs was a bargain struck between two Goa’ulds outside the current regime of power but steadily creeping up on it, with their own designs in mind for reshaping the ruling class.  Still, each of them also knew that this fearsome, hideous exterior put the fear of Anubis into the living who looked upon him. 

No one could see that face, that terrible visage and not know that it was inhabited by something both more and less than human.

No human being could be so badly scarred, and live.

What Lord Yu had done to Anubis had very nearly killed him.  Months in the sarcophagus enabled him to make brief departures from it in order to maintain his hold on his loyal Jaffa, but he could not leave it for long, only the longer he lay in it, the harder it was for him to leave it.  The body he inhabited needed it to survive, and continued exposure over a thousand years in conjunction with the disease Yu had implanted in him had corrupted his flesh completely.  Even now, he could only leave the chamber for a few days at a time.

Anubis laughed at her.  “You pretend empathy for me, Osiris,” he rumbled softly, “but all I see is revulsion.  Be careful, father, or I shall share my sickness with you, and we shall see how lovely _you_ are then.”

Rage flared in her eyes.  “Neither mock nor threaten me, my son,” she reminded him gently.  “We _need_ each other.  It is best not to anger the one who serves you so faithfully, even while you are…”  She waved an elegant hand at the mirror.  “…that.” 

She sniffed and turned away.  “I can barely stomach looking at you, as it is.”

“I feel the same way,” he returned.  “I am eager for a new body, but it is not yet time.  There is something I must accomplish first, before I can be reborn.”

That got her attention.  “Oh?”  She turned and looked at his reflection in the mirror. 

He lifted the hood back into place with his gloved hands. 

“And what might that be?”

“Retrieve the key to my plan to rule the System Lords, Osiris,” he crooned.  “I searched for it for eons, while I ruled Shoshan through my Jaffa.  As I slept in the healing sarcophagus, they hunted for the greatest treasure of all, the one piece necessary to…” 

He chuckled darkly.  “When the time comes, father, you will see.  You alone will be spared, because you have been loyal to me, but the others… I will make them my own.”

Osiris watched him rise unsteadily and totter toward the door to her apartments.

“We shall return to my treasure house, and when we arrive, we shall have what we need to rule the universe. We shall bring the System Lords and all others to their knees.”

He ambled off to somewhere else in the enormous mother ship, and Osiris headed for the nursery.  She had grown fond of the flesh of her own kind, and though these young ones had been forbidden her, she gazed down into the tank greedily, watching the symbiotes swim and frolic, silently crying out for a host. 

They were just mature enough for implantation, but Anubis had told her they were not to be touched.

The old god had become patient over his thousand-year exile.  He had learned to use the tools of deception and treachery well, and for the past few years, he had been a great teacher.  Soon enough, however, the time would come when there was only one Goa’uld at the top, rather than an assembly.

And that was when Osiris would make her move to claim the throne of the gods for herself.

 

* * *

**August 23**

**Siraket**

Daniel awoke alone again, but knew it was early by the gray light of dawn filtering in through the tent fabric.  He groped for his glasses and put them on, then made sure his hostess was gone before making use of the privy behind a small screen.  He was searching for the T-shirt he’d discarded the night before when he heard the screams.

Dashing out of the enclosure, he glanced left toward where the sound had emanated.  In an instant he saw what was happening, and took off at a dead run for the beach.  Reyenne was already on the way there from farther ahead, and she scooped up two children in her arms.  Behind her, gaining on her quickly, was a huge beast that reminded him vaguely of a cross between an Abydonian mastage and a woolly mammoth.  The beast was huge and obviously angry, bearing down on the woman at a speedy gallop even as he approached.

He shouted at the thing, waving his arms as he ran to get its attention, to draw it away from its intended target. 

For a moment it hesitated, confused by the noise, and Daniel took advantage of that.  Reyenne continued to run without looking back, barely taking notice of him as she carried her precious cargo to safety.

The beast changed its direction slightly and lumbered quickly toward Daniel.  He noticed a crude spear partially imbedded in its side, and remembered the hunt scheduled for today. 

All the men in the village would be out in the surrounding countryside, which left only him to find a way to stop the wounded creature from taking its rage and pain out on the Siraketans who had injured it. 

If he didn’t stop it, the beast would go careening into the village and trample anyone who crossed its path.

He didn’t have time to go back to the tent for his sidearm.  Wearing nothing but his boxers and glasses, he dodged the beast as it swung its huge trunk at him.  Daniel reached for the spear as the creature ran past him.  Grabbing it with both hands, he yanked it free.

The anial roared with pain and rounded on him, rage gleaming in its beady black eyes.

“Where the hell do I aim?” he shouted to no one in particular, frustrated by his lack of hunting prowess, doing his best just to stay alive and out of the creature’s way.

“Throat or underbelly!” came Reyenne’s voice clearly from somewhere not far off.

The mammoth was bleeding profusely from its wound, probably already weakening from blood loss, but Daniel knew it still had a great deal of fight left in it.  He circled it warily, watching as it turned toward him, always keeping him in front, angling to reach him with its trunk, swinging wildly with it when it though he was in range.  It moved ponderously, fast only when it was at a dead run, but slow when it turned. 

Daniel dodged another flail and moved in just as the trunk flew past his head, running up beside it and jabbing fiercely at its belly with the spear.

Another roar of pain told him that he’d hit his mark, but he didn’t stay put to see how well he’d done, darting back away from the creature as it turned to face him again.  In and out he dashed, carefully timing his strikes to avoid getting hit, and gradually the beast weakened, dragging one hind leg as it staggered into a defensive posture.  Daniel was tiring, his muscles burning from the battle, and he mis-stepped just as the creature struck out at him.  The thick trunk caught him across the back just as he thrust with the spear, jamming the weapon deeply into its own belly.  Daniel’s body slammed into the creature’s side, face first.

He let go of the spear and rolled away just as the beast fell onto its side, toppling away from him.  It lay on the ground for a few minutes, roaring and pawing at the ground with its legs, trying to get to its feet again.  Daniel rolled to a standing position and backed away, glasses gone, trying to focus on it and assess whether or not it was going to get up.  Its shape was a blur of gray-brown fur, but as he caught his breath, on guard for more action, he realized with a great sigh of relief that it was dying.

He glanced at his hands, slippery with blood up to his elbows.  More blood spattered his whole body, and he thought some of it might be his own.  His face felt as if it might be damaged, and his back and chest ached with every breath, but he was thankful to still be alive. 

Staggering toward the water not far away, he sat down wearily in it and began to wash himself.  He just sat in the water when he was done, head down, exhausted, trying to draw strength enough to stand up and go back to the tent to rest.

A cheer went up behind him.

He turned to see the women and children from the village crowding around the carcass, already beginning the process of butchering it.

“You saved them,” Reyenne called softly from nearby, her hand settling on his shoulder.

He regarded her fuzzy image and squinted to try to get her features to focus.  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t exactly sit back and do nothing.”

“You could have been killed.”

“Yep.  Didn’t have much time to think about that.”  He splashed a double handful of the warm water on his face again, fingertips gently massaging his nose and cheeks, feeling the soreness and trying to ascertain if any part of him was seriously injured.

“Could you see if you can find my glasses?  They got knocked off during the fight.”

She put the mangled frames into his hand.  “I am afraid this appliance is broken.  Perhaps you should return to your base for another one.” 

She stroked her fingers across his bare back.  He gasped and arched away from her touch.  “And to have your physician look at your wounds.  Something may be broken inside you.”

“Not broken,” he assured her.  “Just bruised.  And I can have them send me another pair of glasses with the other supplies I need.  Till I get them, I can just relax on the beach.  Take a nap, or something.  I’m due a little down time after all the missions we’ve been on lately.” 

She moved around in front of him, still wearing her white robe, and sat down in the water facing him.  Her eyes were warm and sympathetic.  “There must be a reason why you do not wish to go home, even when it would be wise to do so.”

Daniel glanced up sharply at her.  Then he smiled.  “I guess it’s my turn for the third degree, huh?” 

He shook his head.  “Things just haven’t been going so well lately between my CO and me.  My commanding officer, I mean.  Jack O’Neill.  I don’t feel... _useful_ to SGC anymore.”

“I have heard of this Colonel O’Neill.  The Asgard named a ship after him, yes?”

“Yeah.  Right before they blew it up.” 

He tried not to smile, and failed.  There was just something so ironically funny about it that he couldn’t help himself.  Maybe he was just slap-happy, after all the exertion.

“You talk to him, yes?”

That was definitely a woman’s question.  “No.  We don’t talk much these days.  We just yell at each other a lot.”

“Ah.”  She was quiet for a moment, and then stood up, offering him her hand.  Her robe clung to her lower body like a second skin, almost transparent with the water saturating the fabric.  “Can you stand yet?”

“I think so.”  He tried to get up on his own, but his legs quivered and threatened to give way, so he accepted her hand and let her help haul him up.  “Nice save, by the way.  If you hadn’t been there, those kids would be toast.”

“We would _all_ have died, had you not risked your life to save us,” she countered gently.  “Thank you, Daniel.  You are a brave man.”

She didn’t make eye contact when she spoke to him, keeping her eyes downcast as they emerged onto the beach. 

The village matriarch came toward him with what looked like a slab of the mammoth’s heart in her hands, offering it to him as ritual dictated – the choicest piece for the hunter who made the kill.  With as much grace as he could manage, he took a bloody bite, smiled and nodded at her, and sent her away happy.

When she was out of sight, he spat the half chewed flesh onto the ground and wiped his mouth across his forearm. 

“I prefer mine cooked, thanks,” he said softly, and glanced at the woman still walking quietly beside him toward the tent. 

He became aware that his soaked shorts were as see-through as Reyenne’s robe, and dropped his hands down in front to cover himself.  He saw her glance toward the movement, and the slight smile touched the corners of her mouth as she strolled beside him.

For a former prostitute, she was certainly on the modest side, he thought to himself, but then, Reyenne was a complicated woman.  He decided he liked her, and would enjoy developing a friendship with the Tok’ra woman… as far as his own conscience would allow him.

She was, after all, still a Tok’ra, and he had to keep reminding himself of that.

He returned to bed for a while to rest from his morning’s activity, and awakened near noon.  Moving slowly, stiff and sore, he dressed and strolled down to the Stargate, switched on the MALP and dialed home to report in to headquarters. 

Carter was on the receiving end of his video conference, and obviously happy to hear from him.

“Sam, could you send me another pair of glasses?  I had a little accident and mine were broken,” he began. 

“Sure thing.”  She grinned.  “We’ve got your scrip on file.  It’s not like this is the first time that’s happened.”  

Pulling a list from his back pocket, he added a few other items, including a tent of his own.  Reyenne was nice enough to share her quarters, but a man could only take so much of watching an attractive woman undress in front of him every night without it leading somewhere.

He offered his thanks, but did not ask how things were going on her end.

“So how’s the research going?” Sam asked, her voice bubbly and expression perfectlly innocent.

“Just getting my feet wet.  It’s going to take a while with this one, I think.  We seem to have your run-of-the-mill Anubis show going, but for him to have spent as long as it obviously took to build the temple complex, it’s clear we’re missing something.  I can see why Reyenne asked for help.”

“How are things otherwise?”  Sam’s image seemed to be looking past him in the monitor.  “Looks like a nice place.”

“Oh, yeah.  Mountains and a beach.  It’s hot during the day, but the nights are spectacular.  Some kind of biological fireworks every night.”

“Sounds beautiful.”  She glanced away for a moment, jotting something down.  “Colonel O’Neill was sent home yesterday.”

“That’s good.”  Daniel felt himself tightening up inside at the mention of his CO’s name.  “How’s he doing?”

His show of interest brought a smile from Sam.  “Cranky.  He can’t have beer with the pain meds he’s on, and can’t lay off the pain meds long enough to enjoy a beer.  Teal’c’s volunteered to be nurse and house buddy for a few days, till the Colonel can get along by himself, and Logan’s doing their cooking.  I get to be errand girl.” 

She sighed.  “This is _really_ tough for him, Daniel.”

“Yeah.  It’s all about Jack.”  He couldn’t keep the acid tone out of his voice.  That was the last thing he wanted to discuss at the moment.  He looked into the monitor and saw Sam’s expression fall.

“Daniel, you guys _really_ need to talk,” she said bluntly.  Things aren’t getting any better—“

“Yeah, gotta go, Sam.  Send my stuff through when you’ve got it put together, and thanks.  Daniel, out.” 

He killed the transmission before she could chide him any further.  He needed time and distance if he was going to achieve an objective perspective on the situation, and being prodded about it wasn’t going to do anything but get his back up and make him dig in.

Slowly, carefully, he wandered back toward the beach and the remains of the _auklat,_ as the villagers called it.  Strips of its meat had been hung on drying racks all along the beach.  The hide had been cut away in one big piece, the bones disassembled and neatly stacked once the meat was all taken off, and the entrails and other odd bits stacked in piles for eventual use.  He skirted around the busy women still working the carcass, though they stopped long enough to greet him with a smile and an offer of some tidbit they were handling.

He gratefully declined, his appetite having vanished at the smell.  It really wasn’t such a big deal, what he had done.  The _auklat_ was already half dead by the time it got to the village, and all he’d done was finish it off,  but he winced as an unguarded movement made his back muscles bunch, and he remembered how hard the beast had struck him.  Even wounded, it could easily have killed him.  He’d just _had_ to do something, to keep it busy at least, to prevent it from laying waste to the village.

Daniel hadn’t intended to be a hero.

He wasn’t, really.  He just didn’t like seeing people get hurt, especially children.

Which led him right back to the disastrous mission to P24-640.

The natives had been trying to protect their children from what they perceived as an alien threat.  Jack had seen only the brandished weapons and the anger in the eyes of the adults between himself and the only means of escape. 

He could have backed off and gone around them. 

He could have waited, and let Daniel sort it out.  That was what an anthropologist/linguist was _for_ , after all, but lately, he hadn’t seemed to want to listen to what his cultural specialist had to say.

That was _exactly_ the problem.  Until Jack was ready to listen, Daniel didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

If O’Neill didn’t want anything but military advice, then Daniel would step off the team and they could bring in another soldier to fill his slot. 

There were plenty of other things Daniel could do for the SGC, and if not for them… 

Maybe others of Earth’s alien allies might have a use for his expertise. There were options. He could be useful. All he needed was a new place to practice his skills with people who _would_ value his input.

He aimed his myopic eyes toward the horizon, watching the surface of the ocean ripple with little waves sparkling in the afternoon sunshine. 

It was peaceful there, if he didn’t look at the carnage behind him.  With nothing better to do, he wandered farther down the beach to an isolated spot, took off his shirt and his shoes and laid himself gently down on the sand to rest and bake in the sun.

 

* * *

 

Reyenne moved some of the rubble aside and peered into the newly opened room that Daniel had divined somehow must be there.  The entry had been made late the previous evening, and the men had all departed for the hunt that morning, so no more work would be done on the dig until they returned.  She couldn’t wait, however, and cleared away enough of the smaller stones to allow her slender body to pass through the opening.

Torch in hand, she lit it and strolled along the nearest wall, her eyes roving over the mural. 

She swallowed hard as images of Anubis looked down at her from everywhere. 

“What did you find here?” she asked aloud.

 _Something important,_ came the answer from the symbiote.  _You should tell Doctor Jackson the truth._

She shook her head.  “Not yet.”

_He is a good man, Reyenne.  He will understand._

“I can’t take that risk.  His assistance is too necessary with this project.”

_He needs to know your connection to Anubis.  These rooms disturb you.  He will see it, eventually._

Reyenne’s eyes filled with tears as she regarded the images of the jackal-headed god.  She swallowed the lump in her throat and replied without her voice.  _When he asks again, I will tell him._

 _By then_ , Kirin advised, _it may be too late._

A ripple of cold laughter in the back of her mind made Reyenne gasp and turn around, but there was no one else in the room. 

There was no one but the symbiote inside her, and the memories of another, slowly awakening, and growing stronger with her every breath.

 

* * *

**Alpha Colony**

The Alpha colony was primitive, even by human standards, Anat thought.  She stood in the forest at Mihos’ side, hidden from view by their invisibility devices, watching the people in uniform build their huts and set up their machinery.  One building was marked with a large red symbol, two bars crossing each other at right angles, and it appeared to be the most advanced.  Crudely hand-painted signs decorated a post in the center of the camp, one of them reading, “Earth, 300 light years,” with one end of the sign board carved into a crude arrow point.

She supposed it was some sort of reminder how far away the colony was from home.

Anat never understood that concept.  From the moment she had taken her first host, the whole of the universe was home to her.   She belonged wherever she was, and blending into the shadows was a challenge she enjoyed.  Few of her kind were of that personality type, rarer even than those Goa’uld who were capable of reproduction, and highly prized.

She was among the best of the Ashraks, second only to Neith herself.  Sekhmet was too bold, too bloody.  Wadjet had no passion, but Anat had just the right mix of both.  Subtlety was her finest feature.

 _And you have my beauty,_ her host reminded her in the silence of her mind.  _That opens a great many doors for us._

 _That is why you were chosen_ , Anat confirmed proudly.  _Because you were beautiful.  And you accepted me because you did not want that beauty to fade.  Ours is an equitable bargain._

Ashraks always chose willing hosts.  There were times when the Goa’uld found it necessary to hide in the host, to share what they knew and let the host carry out the appointed task, but unlike the Tok’ra, Ashraks had no qualms about using the sarcophagus to keep them young and strong.  They had no moral code that would prevent the taking of any life, when necessary… or when it suited them.  Anat had killed for pleasure on many occasions, or to practice a new technique or try a new weapon or poison.  She enjoyed it, watching the body of her victim struggle and go still, seeing the light of life wink out in the eyes.

She smiled.  It had been far too long since she enjoyed that pleasure, and she had plans for some recreational pursuits while she was on the First World.  Initially, she would have to acclimate herself to the culture.  The Goa’uld knew little about the Tau’ri, and discovering how they lived, how they thought would provide great insight into how to destroy them.

Observation was key for that.  Anat was good at such studies, and she was patient.

For days she and Mihos had kept watch on the encampment, walking invisibly among them often enough to hear snatches of conversation.  They listened for plans and information, learning what they could in order for Anat to have a start on how to blend in among those on the First World. 

The colony the Tau’ri had made as a hedge against annihilation when Apophis and Klorel went to destroy them had been maintained and was growing; an offshoot of Earth civilization, but it would do them no good. 

Once the homeworld was gone, this encampment would soon follow.

Anat’s eyes followed a trio of women in green, backpacks slung over their shoulders, weapons on carry-straps held idly against their sides, as they moved toward the entrance to the underground installation where the _chaapa’ai_ was hidden.  Anat felt Mihos touch her arm and take his leave, following the women toward the base entrance.  Soundlessly she moved from the trees and returned to her cloaked ship, plotting the coordinates for the next stop on her journey.

The First World would soon be hers, and she would not leave it unmarked.

 

* * *

 

**August 25**

**Earth**

The room was cast in deep shadow as twilight fell outside the house. Carter moved tentatively as she entered the bedroom, trying to be quiet and not waken the man in the bed, but Jack O’Neill wasn’t sleeping. 

He had called her there, needing to talk, to settle things between them.  He’d had far too much time on his hands to think about a lot of things, and it was time they got certain issues out into the open at last.  He hoped that his tongue would be a little looser under the influence of all the medications he was on, and that he wouldn’t remember everything in great detail after it was over.

This wasn’t something easy he’d be tackling.  It just might be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.  Which was why he needed to be doped up to do it.  That always made a really good excuse for screwing things up royally.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, following that with a deep sigh.

“I wasn’t sure if you were awake,” she responded, her voice hushed in the near darkness.  “Teal’c said to come on in.  What did you want to talk about?”

He watched her sit on the side of the bed, her face illuminated in blue from the falling twilight outside.  She was smiling softly, ready with a cheerful word if he needed it, as she always was. 

Carter was a hopeless optimist.  He loved that about her.  He loved a lot of things about her, and right then he wanted very much to touch her, but that would be wrong on way too many levels.

“Thera and Jonah have some unfinished business to discuss,” he whispered, his mind trailing back to the mission where they had been imprisoned and made slaves, their minds altered with a memory stamp that prevented them remembering who they really were.

_She had come to his bunk in the middle of the night, not long before the memories started to come back.  They had been stealing glances at each other all through their shift, smiling and offering reassuring, warm looks that spoke volumes.  She cared about him, and he made sure she knew from his tender responses that he felt the same._

_Love among the workers was forbidden, because it led to unwanted pregnancies that taxed resources and reduced the labor force during the period before and after the birth of a baby.  Still, having little else to brighten their lives, occasionally a man and woman would risk punishment and procreation for a moment’s pleasure to lighten their load.  There was no privacy in the bunkroom and blankets didn’t stretch far enough to cover two people.  Those who gave in to desire did it in full view of anyone else who might be awake, or waken to the noises they made in stolen pleasure._

_Thera knew the risks.  So did Jonah.  Yet there she was, laying her cool hand against his cheek, looking at him with invitation and need in her eyes.  He rose up slightly and touched her face, wanting so desperately to turn her away, but unable.  His body shifted backward on the bunk mattress to make room for her, and she carefully, quietly climbed up and stretched out on her side, facing him._

_He would not undress her and risk letting anyone see what lay beneath her clothes.  Instead, he reached up beneath her tunic, his stained, work-roughed fingers smoothing over her fine, silken flesh to the rounded swell of her breast.  He held back the groan of pleasure that stirred in the back of his throat, letting it out as a soft sigh._

_Thera closed her eyes and inhaled quickly, pressing her flesh into his hand.  He knew what to do, how to touch her, and stroked her until her breathing was strained in the silence.  She was ready.  She wanted him, and her hand smoothed down from his cheek, across his chest and belly, to the hardened organ in his trousers.  He flinched and shuddered at the contact, a soft groan breaking the silence.  No one took notice._

_She lifted the hem of his tunic and slipped her hand into his pants, touching his erection with her fingers.  Slowly, she began to stroke him there, creating sensations he could barely tolerate, they were so wonderful.  She gripped him, her motions firmer, faster, then slowing down to a gentle, loving caress.  He was primed and ready, so it would be quick when it happened._

_Only he would not take her there, not in that place, not when someone might see them.  That sort of intimacy with her was the stuff of dreams and could never be a reality in the life they led, toiling without end for their very survival.  She deserved better than that._

_Still, he would give her the pleasure she had come seeking.  He would show her that she was loved.  His hand moved down across the gently rounded plane of her belly, into her trousers and the soft thatch of golden hair he would never see.  She gasped when he touched her there, pushing toward him hungrily.  Her lips parted, and she stared at him in the near-darkness, asking him, begging him to do it, to take her and share her love for him._

_He made no move to kiss her, though holding back made him suffer unspeakable torment.  His fingers probed her as deeply as he could reach, her heat and wetness calling to him with primal urgency.  He could feel her need vibrating all through her, and answered with the skillful stroke of a fingertip across her pleasure-center.  She arched toward him with a whimper, eyes closing, head thrown back as bliss swept over her in great waves, and when it began to ebb, she relaxed against the mattress and looked at him again, wanting more, asking with her eyes for him to finish what he had started._

_Jonah just stayed where he was, touching and teasing her, leading her toward another orgasm before she understood.  With tears in her eyes she came again, a soft sob escaping her before she could stifle it.  When she recovered, her hand took control of him and brought him to completion as well.  For a long time they lay together like that, facing each other in the dimness, hands touching each other intimately, the scent of sex heavy between them._

_Thera had not kissed him before she left his bunk.  She accepted that things would go no further for them, but he wasn’t sure she understood the things he hadn’t been able to whisper to her in the night.  He needed to make sure she knew why he turned her down, after a fashion._

_Then things began to happen.  They remembered who they were, and Jack O’Neill wasn’t the kind of guy who talked about personal things._

Both of them had avoided the subject afterward.  He’d had his fantasies, of course, imagining her in his bed, making love to her properly, but then would come the uncomfortable after-images – what to say to her at breakfast, or late at night when she was bubbling over with some science project she’d invariably be working on, and he just wanted to go to sleep.  There was more to what he felt for her than just that primal man-woman thing.  He really _did_ love her, which was what made it all so sad, and he was absolutely sure she felt the same way.

Only he’d been through enough with Sara to know what it would be like.  If he let her into his life, Sam would want to share.  As her CO, it was okay for him to drift off while she was prattling on about stuff that went over his head, but as her lover, he would need to listen, and if he got used to closing her out, eventually he’d stop listening completely and begin to ignore her.  She would resent that, and begin to hate him.

He’d shut Sara out. Odds were, he’d do it to Carter, too.

He wouldn’t hurt her like that.  It simply wouldn’t work between them, and he knew it down to the roots of his soul.  The longing would likely never go completely away, but it was time to let her go, to get all this out into the open and make sure she knew to look for her happiness elsewhere, as much as it would kill him to watch that happen.

“It’s okay,” she assured him with a smile.  “We didn’t know who we were then.  What we did was…”

“Necessary,” he finished for her.  “I know.  But it’s still there, between us, waiting.  We need to address that.”

Her soft smile faded away.  “Do we?”

She was looking right at him.  Grief blossomed in those big blue eyes.  She _knew_.  She had _already_ moved on. "You can hold a torch forever," she told him, "but if you just put it down for a bit, you might find out the sun is coming up outside."

He sighed again.  That made things easier.  “You know it would never have worked between us, Samantha.”

She nodded.  “Yes, Jack.  Those other Sams and Jacks who made it work, they were way different from us.  She wasn’t military, and he had different expectations of her because of that.” 

_There were no prohibitions between those other Sams and Jacks,_ he added to himself.  Yes, it made a difference, a huge difference, but there was far more to it than that. 

One of those Sams didn’t even know that the man she intended to marry had _lost a son_. 

That was still part of the basic Jack O’Neill personality, that he kept far too many things to himself.

“I’m not sorry it happened,” he said softly, remembering the feel of her quivering against his hand, the scent of her lingering in the darkness.  “I wish there could have been more.”

Sam leaned toward him, her palm settling against his face, so warm and gentle that it made him ache inside.

“Me, too.  But I think I got it, that night.  There are lines you’re not willing to cross, and I won’t fight you to make you go there.” 

She smiled again, but sadly.  “I wanted you to give me your love as a gift.  I didn’t want to have to batter down the walls around your heart and demand it.”

She understood him so well. 

“So, are we okay?” he felt better, but wasn’t sure if that was the drugs or simple weariness, or if a burden of some sort had been lifted.

“Yeah.  We’re okay, sir.”  She withdrew her hand, and the moment of intimacy was over.  “I’ll still follow you anywhere, but I gave up waiting for you a long time ago.” 

She bowed her head and dropped her gaze to the floor.  “Though a girl can still dream…”

“Yeah, Carter.  Me, too.”

“So you’ve been doing a lot of thinking, huh?” she eyed him again, this time cool and calculating.

He knew that look.  The conversation was about to get very long and involved, and he thought he knew the subject she’d be broaching. 

Daniel could wait.  Nothing was going to get solved while he was off world, anyway.

“Yeah, but I’m tired now.  Mind if I get some sleep?”

She grinned.  “Coward.”

“Wounded soldier, thank you,” he shot back crossly.  “Now, get your butt outta my bedroom and let me get some shut-eye.  That’s an order, Major.”

Soft laughter spilled out of her as she rose.  Quietly, she headed for the door.  He called her at the last minute, and she turned to face him, her image cast in shadow.

“Sam, you know…”  He meant to tell her how he felt, to actually say the words, but they stuck in his throat.

“I know,” she finished for him, nodding. The tiniest little smile glimmered in her eyes and touched the corners of her mouth.

“Find somebody who can give you what you need,” he told her.  “That’s not an order, but…”

“I know.”  She shrugged.  “I’m not looking, though.  I’ve got more important things on my mind, but who knows?  Maybe some alien culture will give me a husband as a gift someday, and I’ll give up all of this…”

She raised her arms expansively.

“Nah.”  Jack grinned at her.  “You’d drive him nuts.”

“Or the other way around.”  She hesitated.  “Night, sir.  Sleep well.”

“Night, Carter.  I’ll sleep better now.  Thanks.”

She closed the door behind her and he lay staring at the ceiling for a long time, remembering that night beneath the surface of an iced-over world, when two slaves had found love for a moment, and chose to let it go.

 

* * *

 

**August 26**

**Siraket**

The hunters returned on the third day, dragging their kills proudly behind them.  Tales were told all through the village as the new carcasses were dressed and prepared, and a feast was set for evening.  The men bathed in the ocean and were painted by the old women, but this night they didn’t don their tunics or vests, letting the symbols on their bodies show in the firelight. 

The matriarch insisted on painting Daniel before the celebration began and he suffered through it patiently, imbibing the homemade moonshine they offered him to ease his lingering pain.

He enjoyed the buzz, but made sure he kept his drinking to a minimum.  He was still taking antihistamines, and until his supplies arrived from SGC (and they were a day late – it wasn’t that hard to round up what he’d requested), he wanted to be alert in case the stuff arrived, and not leave it lying on the ramp while he slept in a drunken haze, recovering from his wounds.

The men insisted on a fully re-enacted epic of Daniel’s heroism, so a handful of the women donned the half-cured _auklat_ hide and Daniel dutifully pretended to kill it again.  One of the women underneath the hide slapped his buttocks in imitation of the beast’s final blow, which brought a raucous cry up from the crowd, followed by teasing laughter.  He smiled and shook his head, but as the women tossed the hide aside to suggest the creature’s death, drumbeats sounded outside the circle of firelight.  A shout arose, and all the women gathered around the fire – and around Daniel – and began to dance.  He found himself caught up in the movement and the music, and from somewhere in the background a few voices were raised in song.

He was dizzy by the time he made it to the outer edge of the circle, but the villagers weren’t finished with him yet.  Hands gently guided him back toward the fire and the women stepped away, all turning to face him as they took their seats or stepped behind others who were standing just outside the circle.  At first he didn’t understand what they wanted, but one of the men came up and demonstrated.

They wanted the _auklat_ -killer to dance for them in celebration of his feat.

The music was infectious, and his head was spinning.  Daniel smiled and raised his hands, trying to decline the request, but voices rose up in disappointment, and he put his head down to think.  He had done this sort of thing before, learning the customs of indigenous people all over his own planet. 

He liked dancing when he was in the right mood or there was ritual to be served, and the music and drink were certainly getting him there fast. 

Closing his eyes, he remembered a Native American celebration and a dancer he had once watched, dressed in feathers and brightly colored leggings, arms spread like an eagle soaring in the sky.

So he danced.  He felt the rhythm in his bones, the chants vibrating against his skin, and for a moment, for one brief instant, he _was_ the great bird, whirling on currents of air hundreds of feet above the surface of the earth.  He felt whole and balanced and right.  _He felt free!_

Daniel opened his eyes as he raised his arms, flapping gracefully as his feet stomped in a small circle.  Something pale glimmered at the edge of his foggy vision and he flew toward it, recognizing Reyenne being playfully shoved at him from the edge of the circle.  She stumbled into the ring of firelight and fell at his feet, breathless and laughing.  He flapped his wings at her, leaped nimbly over her fallen form, and spun around to watch her rise, unfolding like a flower.  He circled her, his head nodding in time to his steps.

She undulated in sync with the drums, her body moving as fluidly as a snake’s.  The flames of the fire glowed in her amber eyes, and a seductive smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.  Shoulders swayed and she stepped toward him, twirling like a top, hips shaking with all the allure of a belly dancer.  Her movements were sensual, primal, and left no doubt that she knew how to use her body to arouse a man.

He forgot what he was doing and stood still to watch.

The men all around them made appreciative noises, and the women laughed and cheered her on.  Reyenne suddenly seemed to realize what effect she was having on them, and slowed to a modest, embarrassed stop.  She hurried to the edge of the circle, made her way through the crowd of villagers, and ran for her tent. 

Daniel followed her as quickly as he could, breathless and sweating from the celebration, still reeling slightly from drink.

He stepped into the tent and saw her pacing, hands in motion as if she was having an argument with someone.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.  He wobbled a little, still trying to find his balance.  “You looked a little… upset when you left.”

She nodded.  “I was not expecting to dance,” she panted, pushing her hair back from her face.  The lock of white fell stubbornly against her cheek, and into her mouth.  She leaned her head back a little and smoothed it away.  Her lips were slightly parted to let the hair escape.

Daniel couldn’t look away from her mouth.  He wanted her, and when she met his eyes, he saw the feeling was mutual.

“I don’t want an audience,” he growled huskily.

“Kirin sleeps,” she breathed, as if reading his mind.  Her hands were trembling now.  “She leaves me often, these days.  It seems she keeps me quiet for you when I dream.”

“Reyenne, I didn’t come here to seduce you,” he admitted.  “I don’t want you to think your past has influenced what I think about you--”

“I wanted you since the first time I saw you with your shirt off, Daniel,” she told him.  “You knew it, but did nothing.  I thought you did not want me.” 

She gazed at the ground and hugged herself.  “I believed that, once you knew what I was, there was no possibility that I might interest a good man like you.”

He came toward her then, taking her shoulders in his hands.  _God, he felt like a giant next to her!_   She was so small and delicate, so beautiful and sexy…  And there was something so innocent and fragile about her that pulled at his heart.

He lifted her chin, making her look at him.

Those eyes could burn him to a cinder.  He lowered his mouth to hers, bending at the knees to reach her.  She kissed him like she was starving, her hands sliding around his ribs and pulling him hard up against her, but when she touched the bruised spot on his back, he jerked away from her, gasping with pain.

He grinned.  “Be gentle with me, okay?”

She nodded, her eyes heavy lidded with desire.  “I will, Daniel.  I have no wish to hurt you.”  Her hands fumbled with his belt as he reached for her robe and pulled it upward.  She let him remove it over her head, and then looked down to try to figure out how to undo his pants.

“Let me,” he suggested, and stole another quick kiss while he deftly undid his fly.  He thought briefly about disease, but anything she might have had would have been cured by the symbiote after implantation.  He didn’t have to worry about anything with her, including unwanted pregnancy.  Kirin would take care of that, as well.

He pushed his trousers down and sat unsteadily to remove his boots.  That took a couple of minutes, since the laces had to be loosened before he could force them off.  He tossed them, not caring where they landed, and Reyenne helped him get his pants and boxers the rest of the way off.

Then she was on him, her lips in full possession of his mouth, pushing him backward onto the rug.

“Ow!” he said out the side of his mouth, and rolled off his back and onto his side.

She tucked herself underneath him and pulled him on top of her.

He got right back off.  “My chest still hurts, too,” he confessed, grinning.  “I’m beginning to think this isn’t going to happen tonight, Reyenne.”

“There is always a way,” she panted, and got to her knees.  “Come.  We do it sitting.  Or you take me from behind.”  She moved to all fours, giving him a great view of her backside.

He laughed softly.  “Let’s slow down a little, okay?  It’s been a long time for me, and I want to enjoy this.”

She turned around and sat down beside him.  “What do you suggest, Daniel?  Tell me what you want.”

For a moment, he just studied her.  She had come from a male-dominated society and had been trained to please a man, most likely with no thought to her own pleasure. 

Daniel tilted his head to one side and appreciated her beauty, how eager she was, and how innocently enthusiastic she seemed. 

“I think,” he returned softly, “that we should start with _you_.  Have you ever been worshipped, Reyenne?”

All humor left her face in an instant. 

She recoiled, her dark eyebrows twitching downward into a frown.  “How dare you ask me that!” she snapped.  Anger gleamed in her golden eyes.

Then he remembered she was a Tok’ra.  They had a problem with that image. 

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean in the sense of deification.”  He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand.  “I meant like this.”

He leaned in for a kiss, and this time, he held nothing back from her. 

Reyenne’s response left him delirious, barely able to remember his own name.  She was good with her mouth; that was certain, but the rest of her body begged for his attention, and he gave it whole-heartedly.  He touched her everywhere, massaging her velvet soft skin with his work-roughened hands.  He teased and tweaked and probed her with his fingers, until she was breathless and moaning with pleasure.  He tasted every part of her, paying special attention to her woman’s cleft.  Daniel had studied the sexual practices of uncountable cultures, learned as much as he could about the art of pleasuring a woman, and he pulled out all the stops for Reyenne.

Over and over again he brought her to climax, reveling in her gasps and whimpers of bliss.  He played her like a Stradivarius, forgetting about his own needs until he reclined on his side, exhausted.  She forced open her eyes and stared at him, delirious and sated.

“You have not had _your_ pleasure,” she reminded him.

“Give me a minute to catch my breath,” he suggested.

She glanced down at his erection and took him in her hands.  Then she scooted downward on the rug and wrapped her magnificent lips around him, and he groaned.  He clutched at her hair and looked down at her, smoothing the silken stuff away from her face so he could watch her go down on him.

“Stop!” he cried, gripping her hair firmly but gently.  “Oh, Jesus, please _stop_ , Reyenne!”

She obeyed instantly, alarm in her eyes as she faced him.  “Are you all right, Daniel?”

He laughed.  “Oooohhh, yeah.  But I was right on the edge, and I didn’t want to finish like that.” 

He moved slowly to his knees and reached for her.  She straddled him eagerly, and he guided himself into her.  She settled slowly onto him, then looked into his eyes.

“Daniel, I…”  She hesitated.  “I never finished my training as Sennetna.  I was never sold.”

“What do you mean?”  He could see that she was trying to tell him something, but his brain was so fogged with sex and booze that he couldn’t decipher the subtle message.  She felt so tiny in his arms, so tight around him, and it was driving him crazy with need.

“I was given to the gods, Daniel.  No man…”  She was trembling.  “I have never…”

He felt it then, as she continued to lower herself onto his member.  His first instinct was to stop her, to lift her off him, but it was too late.  The barrier of her innocence gave and she cried out, clutching at his shoulders, her body quivering with pain.

Stunned, he stared at her, understanding flooding into him as he filled her with his flesh.  “Reyenne,” he breathed, pressing his palms gently against her cheeks, “you shouldn’t have given me this.  You should have waited for someone you loved.”

“I wanted _you_ , Daniel.”  She heaved a ragged sigh and kissed his left wrist.  “You are a good man, a strong man.  You are wise and brilliant, and you are beautiful.  I wanted _you.”_

Her breath hitched.  “I will _never_ have love, sweet man.  But I wanted to know _this_ , after all my many years, with someone of my choosing.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, leaning forward until his forehead touched her chest.  His hands slid down to caress her shoulders and slip around her back as she began to move, raising and lowering herself onto him with strong, sure strokes.  Only the occasional whimper told him that his invasion of her body still hurt, but even that changed swiftly to moans of need.  He slipped his right hand between them, feeling for her clitoris as she rode him, her pace quickening as he stroked the sensitive hub of her pleasure.

Her body rippled around him, pushing him over the edge of control, and he clutched at her, both hands grasping her hips to hold her tightly to him as he came.  He heard the chorus of their cries and opened his eyes as the last of the waves of ecstasy began to ebb away.  She was bathed in a rainbow of light from the nightly display, and her amber eyes were on fire as she stared down at him.

He had never seen anything so amazing.

For a long time, neither of them moved, just sitting quietly, their arms wrapped around each other.  His cheek pressed against her chest; hers rested against the top of his head.

“Thank you, Daniel,” she said at last.

At last, he met her eyes, and felt himself leave her.

She immediately started to rise, but he held her there.

“You should have told me _before_ we started,” he whispered.

Reyenne, stroked his cheek with her palm.  “If I had, you would have done the honorable thing, and not touched me.  Yes?”

He nodded.  “Your first time should be special.”

She smiled then, and the whole tent seemed to light up.  “It was.”

Maybe she just didn’t get it.  He didn’t want to tell her that this was all about lust.  He didn’t love her, and he was certain she knew that.  He wondered if she had ever been loved in her whole lifetime, and that made him sad.  At least, she didn’t know what she was missing.

He did, though.  He knew what it was like to take the innocence of a woman he loved, who loved him back.  When he and Shau’ri were married, it had simply been an honor paid to him.  For nearly a month he had slept beside her in their home, avoiding husbandly duties and trying to convince her that everything was fine just as it was. 

She had known enough to believe something was missing, but until he explained – as delicately as possible – she didn’t truly understand what men and women did together in the privacy of their bed.  She had some idea, simply by the fact that she had tried to undress for him on their wedding night, but she had never seen a man naked and aroused and had no concept of the act of love other than a few hints she’d picked up from listening to married women talk about their husbands.  Virgins on Abydos were not privy to such knowledge, not until the man they married showed them what the innuendo meant.

Shau’ri had believed Daniel didn’t want her in the way men wanted women, but he had assured her that wasn’t it.  He’d told her that he was waiting for something, but couldn’t express to her what it was.  Then one day, she had been singing while she baked their bread, and he had watched her face and seen how happy she was with him in her life.  She had looked up at him then, and he saw it – saw what he had been waiting for in her eyes, and knew he felt the same. 

He loved her, and the bread had burned and nearly set their tent on fire while he made love to her for the first time.

Reyenne would never know the sweetness of truly making love with a man as a virgin.  He had taken that from her, and it could never be given back.  He couldn’t even apologize for it, because she wouldn’t understand.  All she knew of this act was what she had learned as a Sennetna.

At least she hadn’t been violated by a stranger who had paid for her services.

He sighed wearily, and she slipped off his lap.

“We should sleep,” she suggested gently, and knelt by his sleeping bag, turning it down for him.

“Not yet,” he murmured.  He rose and stepped into his pants, fastened them up and took his T-shirt outside.  Ten minutes later, he returned with it thoroughly saturated with water, and knelt beside her to wash the blood and semen off her thighs, and tuck her into her bed.

He smoothed her hair away from her face.  “Would you like for me to sleep with you?”

“Would it please you?” she returned, stroking her hand across his thigh.

“I asked first.  Your call, Reyenne.  It’s not always about the man.”

She rolled onto her back and stared at the tent ceiling.  “Sleeping beside you could bring with it a sense of possession.  I do not wish to possess you, Daniel, nor do I wish to be owned.  Thank you for the offer, but I think I shall decline.”

His eyebrows lifted.  “Ah hah.”  Standing up, he took off his pants, sat down again and got into her bed beside her.

She giggled.  “I thought you said it was not all about the man.”

He stretched out on his side, facing her.  “It’s not,” he assured her, “but you have a lot to learn about men and women, and how things ought to be between them.  I think I agree with Ysmin’s appraisal of your people.”

“Oh?  And what did she say about the Shoshani?”

“Go to sleep,” he ordered.  “I’m not getting the woman who does my laundry in trouble.” 

He smiled at her, and she seemed to accept that the conversation was over. 

Slipping his arm around her waist, he cuddled her close to him and listened for her to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

Daniel was dreaming of Shau’ri when sudden movement woke him.  For a moment, the fall of Reyenne’s long, dark hair disoriented him, and he called his wife’s name.  The woman beside him rose and headed for the tent’s doorway, stark naked.

He hadn’t seen her face, but he knew Reyenne would never intentionally walk outside without clothes on, even if it were the middle of the night.  He wondered if she might be sleepwalking, and knew that people in that state should never be abruptly awakened.  Grabbing his boxers, he stepped into them on the way out the door, then dashed back inside for her robe and followed her.

She headed up the slope, toward the dig.  The lights above provided enough illumination to see where they were going, but without his glasses, Daniel found himself stumbling along, trying to keep up with her.  A slight depression caught her foot and she started to fall.

Daniel caught her.

Reyenne’s eyes lit up, and she snarled at him... _in the language of the Goa’uld_.  _“How dare you touch a goddess!”_

“Got quite an ego on you, there, Kirin,” he snapped back.  “You sure you haven’t switched sides?”

He released her, leaving her lying on the ground, and stood up.  For a little while, he had forgotten what she was, and he didn’t know if he could trust Reyenne to keep what they had done private from the thing inside her.

The woman rose and snatched the robe from his hands.   _“You will suffer for your impudence, slave!”_ she promised acidly.  _“Avert your eyes.”_

He stood still and stared right at her.

She dressed, obviously flaming mad, and then glanced about her to get her bearings.  She saw the tent and the distant village, and suddenly she quivered and collapsed to the ground again.  Daniel stayed where he was, and waited for her to rise.

Reyenne whimpered, eyes rolling slowly open, and sat up.  She looked down at herself, at the ground, then discovered Daniel’s feet and followed his body up to his face.  “How did I get here?” she asked sleepily.

“Bad dream, I guess,” he ground out.  “You may have been sleepwalking.”

For a moment, she just stared at him.  He could see what looked like horror in her eyes. 

“No,” she whispered, her voice tense with fear.  “No.  It cannot be!  Oh, Kirin—“ 

She struggled to her feet, completely off balance by the revelation.  Before he could make a grab for her, she was off like a shot, racing for the beach.

She was fast.  She stopped knee-deep in the water, facing out to sea, eyes closed, panting for breath.  Her face was filled with agony, and her hands clenched at her sides as she sought composure.

 _Not_ typical Tok’ra behavior.

He wondered if she might be mentally unstable.  Whatever was wrong with her, she was in trouble.  “What’s going on, Reyenne?” he demanded.

She babbled in what he guessed was her native tongue, and covered most of her face with her hands.

“Kirin, dammit, what the hell’s happening to Reyenne?”  He took hold of her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him.

Abruptly, her hands came down and she calmed. 

“ _We struggle,”_ Kirin answered in that odd, multi-tonal voice of the symbiote.  _“Reyenne carries powerful memories, Doctor Jackson.  I cannot always control them or keep them at bay.  It is a constant struggle for me to live within her.”_

“What was she trying to do just now?”

The woman’s expressionless eyes looked up at him _.  “To escape her pain.  She is afraid, and she has reason to be.”_

That calm pronouncement made his hair stand on end.  “What’s she afraid of?”

 _“It is not your concern.”_   She eased gracefully out of his grasp and started to walk back toward the tent.

Daniel grabbed her roughly and turned her to face him.  “She called me a _slave,_ Kirin.  I’d say it affects me.  I need to know if there’s any chance she might decide to kill me in my sleep.”

_“I would prevent that, Doctor.”_

“Yeah?  Like you prevented her from sleepwalking stark naked up the mountain?  Forgive me, but I’m not very comforted.”

She sighed.  _“You have nothing to fear from her, I assure you.  She would not harm another.”_

He relaxed his grip slightly, and stroked his hands down her arms gently.  He sighed and turned her back toward the tent, falling into step beside her as she slogged out of the water.  “Is there anything I can do to help her?”

_“You have already done it.”_

His first thought was their earlier intimacy.  “What happened between us was private,” he snapped.

She looked at him, her head cocked _.  “I did not mean that.  I am aware that you have been inside her body, but I did not participate in the act.  I meant simply that you are her friend, Doctor.  That is the most important thing you can do for her.  Simply be there when she needs you, as you were just now.”_

He watched the ground as they strolled back to the tent, his hands dangling at his sides.  He wanted to put his arm around her, but not while that thing was in charge of her body.  They went into the tent together, and he got into his sleeping bag while she removed her sodden robe, dried off and returned to her bed.

 _“She will be all right for the remainder of the night,”_ Kirin assured him softly.  _“Rest while you can.”_   She sighed and closed her eyes.  _“This work is especially difficult for her, because of her past, Doctor Jackson.  Help her as you can.  Find the answer to this puzzle, and help her leave this place.  She is the only one of the Tok’ra who can help you.  Reyenne cannot do this by herself, and all I can do is try to help keep her focused, until the work is done.”_

He frowned at the ceiling.  “And after that?”

“ _After that...”_   She paused.  _“I am tired, Doctor.  We shall see.”_

Weariness crept up on him and carried him quickly back to sleep, and in his dreams he watched Reyenne swim out to the horizon, and slip quietly beneath the waves.

 

* * *

 

**August 30**

**Stargate Command, Earth**

Sam stopped in front of the door, uncertain if she should be there.  Checking the brand new nameplate, she summoned up her courage and knocked.

“Come,” called a deep male voice from inside.

She pushed open the door and spied a man with dark hair and eyes sitting behind the beat-up, military issue desk, unpacking a box of books. 

He piled them into his lap, and then wheeled himself over to the new shelves that had been built onto the wall to his right.

 Her first impression was that he wasn’t what she expected in a shrink. 

He didn’t look like the academic type, even behind the barely noticeable glasses.  There was some resemblance to Narim, the Tollan scientist who’d had a thing for her when they first visited Earth, but he was younger, handsomer.  He had the upper body of an athlete, a lean, attractive face, dominated by big, expressive brown eyes, but his legs were thin from disuse.  He’d probably been in that chair for a long time.

“Doctor Romani? I’m Major Samantha Carter,” she began, stepping inside and closing the door after her.  “I just wanted to welcome you to SGC and ask for a couple of minutes of your time.  Not for myself, but to talk about a couple of my teammates.”

“Doctor Adam Romani, also Major, USAF,” he responded warmly, “and I must say, all the stuff I’ve been reading suggests that I may not be prepared to deal with the traumas you people encounter on a daily basis.  What you all go through -- this is breaking new ground in the profession of psychology.  Too bad I won’t be able to write any dissertations on it that are published outside of this command.”

He gestured to the guest chair on the far side of his desk.  “Please, have a seat, Major.  Are you going to be one of my new patients?”

She shook her head.  “No, I’ll stick with MacKenzie.  He and I have a good rapport. I came to talk to you specifically about Doctor Daniel Jackson.  He and Doctor MacKenzie don’t get along.  Daniel won’t talk to him, even during the required sessions we all have to attend.  I was hoping you could offer him a little more understanding, but at least you don’t have their track record.  He’ll give you a chance.  At least, I hope he will.”

“Did something happen between Doctors Jackson and MacKenzie?”  Doctor Romani put away the last of the books, set the empty box on the floor and wheeled back behind the desk, giving his visitor his full attention now.

“I’m sure you’ll read about it in the reports, but yes.  Daniel had been infected with this… um… tiny machine designed to destroy Goa’uld symbiotes infesting a host.  Since he didn’t have one, the effects of the machine in his system made Daniel a little, well, a little crazy.  MacKenzie diagnosed him with schizophrenia and had him committed, but Daniel figured out what was wrong with him.  MacKenzie just wouldn’t listen.”

“I see.  And Doctor Jackson no longer trusts Doctor MacKenzie.”  He nodded.  “Yes, a breach of trust of that level can completely foul the doctor-patient relationship.”

 She relaxed a little, hoping this man would be better equipped to deal with Daniel than MacKenzie.  “I wanted to talk to you about Daniel because there’s something up between him and Colonel O’Neill, our CO.  They’re at odds with each other constantly, and it’s destroying the team.  I don’t know what to do about it, other than stand back and watch.  I’ve tried mediating, but it’s like they don’t even see me when they get crossways with each other lately.  Teal’c and I are both upset about it.” 

“And Teal’c is…?” 

Sam smiled warmly.  “He’s a Jaffa rebel who is a member of SG-1, along with Daniel, Colonel O’Neill and myself. My teammate.” 

Romani nodded, taking it all in.  “I’ll pull the files for SG-1 as soon as I get unpacked, and see if I can get Doctor Jackson in for an interview,” he promised. “I’ll also make sure the patient transfer is okay with Doctor MacKenzie and General Hammond.” 

“Well, that’s going to be a little difficult at the moment.  He’s off world on an extended assignment.  It may be a couple of months before he gets back.” 

“Oh.”  Romani aimed his eyes at the floor, obviously thinking.  “Perhaps I could start with Colonel O’Neill, then.”

She shrugged.  “He’s on medical leave at the moment.  You might drop by his home for an interview, if you have the time and it’s okay with Doctor MacKenzie.  I’m not sure how all that’s done, but you probably know all the right protocols.”

He grinned.  “Yes, ma’am, I do. I’m an Air Force lifer, so I know about military protocols as well as those in my field.” 

He bent down beside the desk, picked up another box, settled it into his lap and ripped the tape off it.  “So, do you have any insights into these two that you’d like to share with me, before I start working with them?  I’ll pull Doctor Jackson’s files first and go over them thoroughly, so I’ll be prepared to see him when he gets back from…” 

He smiled even more broadly and shook his head.  “Off world!  Wow.  It’s so hard to grasp that he’s on another _planet_ , light years away from here, walking among aliens and God knows what else.  I can’t tell you how blown away I was when SGC approached me with the offer to work here.”

“Yeah, we all felt that way,” she assured him, and stood up.  “Thanks for your time, Doctor.  I hope we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Doctor Romani glanced into his box, grabbed a couple of framed photos and set them on his desk.  “I expect we will, Major.  I don’t know how Doctor MacKenzie works, but I like to _really_ know my patients, and that usually means talking to the people who are closest to them, in addition to talking directly to them, because they show other people different aspects of their personalities than they reveal to me.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

He nodded.  “Be seeing you around, Major.”

She left his office with hope in her heart. This guy seemed so much warmer than MacKenzie, so much more accepting of what he’d be seeing on a daily basis at SGC. 

If first impressions were correct, he just might be the right medicine for what was ailing Daniel and Colonel O’Neill.

 

* * *

 

Teal’c opened the door to his quarters at the expected knock.  He gazed down at the director of SGC Archives and stepped aside to let her in. 

“Greetings, ShannonMurphy,” he rumbled pleasantly.  “It is almost time.” 

“Sorry to cut it so close, mate,” she replied with a grin.  “I lost track of the time.” 

He had a chair set for himself beside the bed, where the redhead usually preferred to relax, and he turned on the television to the appropriate channel, just as the last of the advertisements were finishing.  The teaser began and each of them took their seats in silence.  When the opening theme music sounded, Teal’c poured his guest a cup of water and set the bowl of fruit that was their traditional snack between them. 

Only during the commercial breaks did they venture into conversation until the final credits rolled.  The TV went off, and they discussed the merits and pitfalls of their favorite show for almost an hour, hypothesizing what future plotlines – such as they were – held in store for the intrepid explorers of _Wormhole Xtreme!_

All of SGC secretly watched the program, though some were openly addicted to its inanity.  Teal’c kept his enjoyment of it to himself, not daring to share it with any of his teammates, since it was SG-1 who were supposedly portrayed in the scope of the television series.  He simply found it amusing and ignored the caricature of himself among the cast. 

ShannonMurphy enjoyed it just because it was fun. 

“I am beginning to understand more of the innuendo couched as humor,” he commented to his guest. 

“Are the romance novels helping with that?” she asked him, reaching for another grape. 

She had an accent that DanielJackson called Irish, and Teal’c found it pleasantly musical.  He enjoyed listening to her speak. 

“Yes.  I am enjoying them, but I do not understand why you wish me to keep secret the fact that I am reading them.” 

She grinned and winked at him.  “It’s just not a ‘guy’ thing to do, Teal’c.  Those books are written for women in need of sommat they can’t get in the real world.” 

He contemplated that, frowning.  “I do not see what is so difficult to achieve.  If a woman wants a man for sexual gratification, all she need do is express that desire plainly.  Most men will be pleased to accommodate.” 

Shannon laughed and picked up a banana, shaking it at him.  “Oh, love!  You are _so_ an alien.  That’s not it at all.  It’s not just the _sex_ women want, you see.  It’s the passion and tenderness, the blatant sensuality that the paperback lovers offer, when most flesh-and-blood men can’t buy a clue.  We want men to smolder when they look at us as a kind of foreplay.  We want them to be able to see only _one_ woman as a sexual partner.” 

She sighed wistfully and gazed up at the ceiling.  “And we’re perfectly willing to put up with a man who’s not perfect, as long as the chemistry’s there.” 

“I have noticed a preponderance of relationships failing on your television programs due to a lack of communication between partners,” he observed sagely.  “Why are humans not honest with their emotions?  Why is it necessary to trick others into submission?  I do not understand this.” 

She shrugged.  “Because all too often, those who _are_ honest about how they feel get trampled on by those who would rather play the games.  I think if more men read romance novels, they’d understand women better.  We _don’t_ want to be treated badly.  We want to be needed and respected, but we also want men who are strong and sure of themselves.  Arrogance has its charm.” 

She gave him a lopsided grin.  “As does the unattainable.  You’d be surprised how many women here get all hot and bothered over _you,_ my friend.  I can give you names, if you’re interested.” 

He inclined his head regally, touched by her suggestion.  “I thank you for the offer, ShannonMurphy, but I am a married man.  I have only one woman in my heart, and until we can be reunited—“ 

“I know, Teal’c,” she returned softly.  Her eyes filled with tears as she smiled, and hastily blinked them away.  “I’m like that, too.” 

She reached for his pillow and stuffed it into her lap, leaning forward on it eagerly.  “So now I’d like to hear another story, if you’re not too tired.  I love the Chulak mythology, y’know.” 

He smiled softly.  He had met her when taking a particularly heavy artifact down to be stored in Archives, and she had been as excited about meeting him as she had been about the monument stone he’d brought to her for storage.  She had kept him down there for hours, asking about Jaffa legends and tales, and he’d promised her he would come by regularly to share them with her. 

That had struck up a fond friendship between them, and when he wasn’t with his team during off hours or in meditation, he could often be found prowling around Archives, helping her with some project or other that usually involved a great deal of conversation and heavy lifting. 

She was lively and excitable, and he enjoyed that about her, but all the talk about romance brought memories of Drey’ac to mind. 

He missed her.  He missed his son, both of whom were waiting for him in the Land of Light.  No other woman would do for him. 

He was not the sort to engage in sexual congress for the mere pleasure of it; rather, the emotional bond was a necessity for him to enjoy the act. 

As long as his wife lived, he would belong to her and no other. 

“In the days before the gods,” he recited, for that was how all the old tales began, “there was a great warrior and a beautiful princess who fell in love…” 

Shannon Murphy listened raptly, her green eyes sparkling with interest, as he told a tale of lost love and great rewards.  It was a very old morality tale, meant to illustrate the depth of commitment to one’s mate.  When he finished, tears were streaming down her face and she was sobbing. 

“Are you all right, ShannonMurphy?  I did not intend to wound you with this tale.” 

She put his pillow aside and hopped off his bed. 

He stood, and she gave him a warm embrace.

 “I’m fine, Teal’c,” she whispered, “just a sucker for a good love story.  “That was just the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever heard.  You’re quite the storyteller, love.  That’s one I’m going to have to write down.  Thank you for sharing it with me.” 

She stepped aside and headed for the door. 

“Are you going to your office now?” he asked. 

“Yes.  I want to key it in while it’s still fresh in me mind.  Want to come?  Maybe you can help with getting it down right.” 

“I would be pleased to help you.”

 He started toward the door with her.  “Tell me, ShannonMurphy, why do you wish to learn about the legends of the Jaffa?” 

Her expression relaxed.  She spoke as if she were dreaming, or seeing something very far away.  “Because I think the truest illustration of a culture is their mythology.  It shows what you hold most dear, what you fear most, and how you grow.” 

When she met his gaze again, her eyes sad. She touched his arm lightly and gave him a fond squeeze.  “And _you_ , dear Teal’c, have shown me what a great race the Jaffa are.  When they’re free of the Goa’uld, they will shine, one day.  I _promise_ you that.” 

Such warmth and candor humbled him.  “You are a great friend.” 

She linked her arm in his and walked with him down the corridor, changing the subject to things less emotionally charged, disregarding the looks of the people who passed them.  Some would be thinking that there was something more than friendship between them, but they were people who did not know either of them well.  Those who were privy to their personal histories knew that anything more was not possible for either of them, though Shannon seemed to want to see him paired up with a woman, if for no other reason than gratification. 

He supposed that was the way Tau’ri women were, since they put so much emphasis on romance as to write books fantasizing about the subject. 

His thoughts returned to his wife, and he imagined himself in the boots of the warrior in his tale. 

Given the option between marriage to another woman and death, Teal’c would gladly choose to end his days alone, but like the warrior in his story, what appears to be the end could also be the beginning. 

As long as there were Tau’ri to fight the Goa’uld, he believed there was a chance that he might one day be reunited with his family.  As long as there was hope, the love he felt for his wife would stand firmly between him and other women. 

He could not see himself becoming involved with women he did not understand, anyway, and Tau’ri women were confounding, to be sure. 

He strolled quietly with her to her office, stood at parade rest behind her desk, and watched her type in the story he had told her for an evening’s entertainment.  He was surprised to see that she had written down every such tale he had told her, kept in its own folder on her desktop.  Teal’c began to search through his memory for as many of the children’s fables as he could recall and determined to relate them all to her, so she could put them down in her computer and keep them for others to enjoy. 

Perhaps then, part of the Jaffa culture might survive even the Goa’uld. 

_If,_ of course, the Tau’ri themselves survived.

 

* * *

 

 

**August 31**

**Siraket**

Reyenne awoke to find that Daniel had moved back to his own bed.  It saddened her, but she had been prepared from the beginning for him to reject her at some point.  That was part of the bargain Sennetna women made with men.

Silently she rose and dressed in a fresh robe, then made her way to the temple to begin her daily work.  Straight for the newly opened chamber she went, but as she set up the lamps and turned to regard the starting point in her study, she heard that chilling laughter again, echoing inside her head.

“Go away,” she pleaded, and buried her face in her hands.  “Please, let me be!  Let me be.”

_Peace, Reyenne._

“Help me, Kirin,” she breathed, leaning against her palms pressed to the wall.  “I cannot bear this much longer.”

_Concentrate on the puzzle.  Find the answer, and we can go from this place.  We can leave it forever.  Perhaps then the dead may be reburied._

Reyenne sniffed back her tears, swallowed the lump in her throat, and lifted her head.  She lowered her hands to her sides, and narrowed her eyes at the black jackal-headed god on the wall. 

“We already know the answer, don’t we?” she whispered to her partner.  “He’s coming back.  He’s coming _here_.  We just don’t know when.”

 _Soon,_ the other voice agreed.  _Everything is in place._

Reyenne nodded, picked up her journal, unfolded her chair, and sat down to begin the daily transcription.

 

* * *

**_Somewhere in Space_**

The sarcophagus opened and Anubis lay quietly inside it, his ruined body protesting the fact that it was alive yet again.  Slowly, he opened his eyes and sighed.  He didn’t want to move.  There was so much pain it was hard to remember when he’d lived without it.

“Do you wish to rise, Great One?” called a voice softly from nearby.

That would be his high priest, Madettess.  The old Shoshani loved his god with great passion, and worshipped him constantly.  It was comforting, such devotion.

“Not today, Madettess,” Anubis intoned.  “I have much to contemplate.”

The sarcophagus began to close again, though the lights inside did not go out.  They dimmed to tolerable levels, easing the pain in his eyes.  The machine engaged, and soon the pain receded as pleasure-chemicals were released in his brain.

He was thankful for the creators of this machine.  Searching through his memory, he recalled when his kind had first encountered them.  He regretted their loss, but it had been necessary. 

_He had stepped through the chaapa’ai and surveyed the remains of the city.  Smoke had risen in thick clouds, obscuring the view of the once impressive skyline.  He had come alone to this world, curious to see it for himself while it was still relatively fresh.  Ra had come only days earlier to destroy it, and the stench from the rotting dead was strong._

_Anubis strolled down the smoothly paved avenue leading away from the portal and into the city.  A soft whirring sound touched his ears, and he turned to see a small silver orb lift off from atop the chaapa’ai ring and come toward him.  Uncertain what it might be, he reached for his zat’nik’tel, altered from the original disintegration tool that had come from this place, and aimed it at the device._

_It hovered above him for a moment, then retreated back to the ring and shut itself off.  Reassured that it meant him no harm, he turned his attention back to the city.  He reset the zat’nik’tel to disintegrate, and as he began to approach the first group of bodies, he vaporized them without even looking at them.  The smoke obscured his view of the others, but the smell led him to them._

_As he walked, it began to bother him less, until he hardly noticed it at all._

_These were the people who had unwittingly made the Goa’uld into gods.  By their hands, Ra’s dead would rise, all their sickness would be cured, and unwanted items could be made to disappear.  Through their tools, thoughts could be transferred or destruction done with the power of a whim._

_With the machines these people had created, the Goa’uld might rule the universe unchallenged._

_Already they walked through the chaapa’ai and taught the simple to worship them.  They conquered worlds and made lesser beings do their bidding.  Others feared them and their power._

_But somehow, the Tejennans had been aware of what the Goa’uld had done with their gifts.  They had spoken against the gods and incited Goa’uld slaves to rebellion.  The Tejennans had spoken of a time when a cleansing fire would come and even the gods would bend before it.  They had blasphemed, and because of that, Ra had destroyed them._

_Now, they would be no more.  Their kind was being hunted extensively through the universe, to be killed on sight by the order of Ra himself._

_Anubis had studied the once great city and shook his head, saddened by the loss._

_The Tejennans’ machines would outlive them forever, and no one but the Goa’uld would ever know the truth of their origins._

_He’d made his way back to the portal slowly, appreciating the fine artwork he saw around him, the beauty with which these aliens had surrounded themselves.  It had been a sad loss.  He would have liked to know them, to have seen what they were like when they were alive, rather than a mass of rotting corpses and half-burned flesh piled in their streets._

_The wrath of the gods had been swift and severe.  The Tejennans should have known such blasphemy would end their race.  They could have fought back, might even have won, but they had not.  
_

_Anubis did not understand this quiet acceptance of death.  He would study the phenomenon among all the races he would rule and to try to learn what had brought this great people such peace._

_A small machine on the ground had caught his attention on his way back home.  He’d picked it up, recognizing it as a communication device Ra had shown him once._

_Anubis activated it and watched the image of the Tejennan speak and move, though he did not understand its musical language._

_The creature was beautiful.  He would have enjoyed having one as a host, that he might share that beauty, but that opportunity had slipped through his grasp. It was too late._

_He’d dropped the machine and forgot about it as he’d returned home._

 

* * *

**September 19  
**

 

“Major Carter, I’ve been looking for you,” called a voice from behind her. 

She turned around to find Doctor Romani wheeling up behind her.

“What can I do for you, Doctor?” she asked him pleasantly, continuing as he rolled up beside her and escorted her down the hallway. 

“I’ve lost a lot of sleep lately, reading up on your team.”  He chuckled and shook his head.  “You’ve all had quite some adventures, I must say, but I’m discovering that I need more material to work with, and wanted to ask for a few hours of your time.” 

She checked her watch.  “Well, I can’t right now.  Let me check my schedule—“ 

“How about later tonight?  Say, over dinner?  And I don’t mean that as a date, just to help me get my feet under me before I start working with your teammates.” 

The invitation startled her for a moment.  “I suppose… but where?  I mean, it’s not exactly like we could talk about this in the middle of a busy restaurant.” 

“My place, if you don’t mind.  It’s private and handicap accessible.  You’ll be able to talk freely there.” 

She glanced at the gold ring on his left hand.  “Your wife won’t be listening at the door?” 

He followed her gaze and turned the ring fondly on his finger. 

“No, she won’t.  I’ll be leaving here at six.  Come along whenever you’re done.  I’ll be reading further on my new patient.”  He patted the files stacked almost a foot high in his lap. 

“Is that all Daniel’s?” she asked, incredulous. 

“Yeah.  MacKenzie’s as prolific with his notes as he is with his opinions.” 

He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a business card and handed it to her.  “My address and directions from here on the back.” 

“Okay, Doctor Romani.  I’ll be there as soon as I can, but if it’s late—“ 

“We’ll work it out,” he assured her, “but I need as much background as I can get, so I can help Daniel.  He’s not going to be easy for me to work with, considering his past history.  He may have formed opinions before he even meets me that could be difficult to break through.” 

“ _That’s_ an understatement,” she agreed.  With a sigh, she checked her watch.  “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I can’t promise anything.” 

She flipped the card over and found his home phone number penciled in on the front.  “I’ll call if I can’t make it.” 

“Sure thing.  See you later, Major.” 

Sam watched him wheel away, the muscles in his shoulders flexing as he turned the wheels of his chair and rolled on down the hallway.  She felt sad that he was paralyzed, and wondered what accident or illness had stolen his mobility.  That was none of her business, and she continued on toward her office, turning her thoughts toward the project that had lately taken up so much of her attention and energy. 

Yet as she set her reports down on her desk, an image of Daniel and Colonel O’Neill arguing flashed across her mind, and she crossed her fingers for a moment, hoping that their problems with each other would begin to ease once Doctor Romani started to work with Daniel. 

It was almost eight by the time she drove up to the correct apartment building, took the elevator up to the proper floor, and knocked. 

Romani opened the door himself and ushered her inside, deftly steering his chair around her and the door.  “Thanks for coming. I haven’t eaten yet, so if you’re hungry…” 

She glanced around the small apartment.  It had a great view, was well appointed, but looked a little small for a married couple.  “Where’s your wife?  I was looking forward to meeting her.” 

He wheeled toward the kitchen.  “Marcy’s been dead for six years, Major,” he answered solemnly, “along with my son, Ryan, and my legs.  A drunk driver hit us.” 

“I’m so sorry,” she said instantly.  “I assumed—“ 

“I know, and it’s all right.  I keep them with me in my heart.”  He offered her a sad smile and disappeared into the adjoining room.  “Can I get you something to drink?” 

She couldn’t help feeling embarrassed for her blunder, and saddened by his loss.  “Just water.  I am hungry, though.  Can I help with dinner?” 

“Table’s already set.  I made blackened chicken alfredo and a Caesar salad, if that’s good for you.” 

Her mouth started watering.  “Oh, yeah,” she agreed heartily.  “I’m starving!  Didn’t even stop for lunch today.” 

He asked her about her current projects and led her gently into conversation about the team. 

She described how tight they had been almost from the beginning, and gave her opinion about where the breakdown between the two men began.  Sam found it easy to talk to Romani, and he seemed so warm and caring that her spirits were greatly buoyed. 

She left in the wee hours of morning, hopeful that whatever was broken could be mended, with some patience and the right handling. 

And she was sure that Doctor Romani was the right man for the job. 

 

_**On to Chapter 2: Possession** _


	2. Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anubis returns to the dig site where Daniel and his Tok'ra partner are working, and the ancient Goa'uld chooses a new host.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qetesh: Originally believed to be a Syrian deity, Qetesh was an important form of Hathor, specifically referred to in the latter's function as goddess of love and beauty. Qetesh was depicted as a beautiful nude woman, standing or riding upon a lion, holding flowers, a mirror, or serpents. She is generally shown full-face (unusual in Egyptian artistic convention). She was also considered the consort of Min, the god of virility.

**September 23**

**Siraket**

Daniel followed the map to the last place he had seen Reyenne working and found her in the new room, standing with her back to the hole that served as a doorway.  For a moment he just watched her staring up at the figure of a youthful goddess, carved high on the wall.  Then unexpectedly, she dropped her pencil, and a moment later her journal slipped from her grasp and fell with a slap onto the floor. 

She seemed to wilt a little and stumbled, dropping to her knees.

He rushed to catch her, afraid she was going to faint.  He stepped around her in a crouch while he held her up.

 The look on her face was one of sheer horror, and she covered her face with her hands.

“Hey, are you okay?”  He sat down before her, holding her by the shoulders.  “What’s wrong, Reyenne?”

 _“It is Qetesh,”_ Kirin murmured, and slowly pushed his hands off her. 

She gestured to the graphic, which featured a full frontal image of a naked woman, a rare artistic depiction in Egyptian art.  The figure stood on the back of a lion, and in her hands she held a pair of snake-like creatures – _Goa’uld symbiotes._

Daniel looked at it over his shoulder.  “Yes.  I know who she is.  So?”

 _“She was Anubis’ queen for a time,”_ she announced, her voice trembling.

He studied the reference.  “I don’t see where you’re getting that, but maybe you know her history better than I do.  All I know about her is from Earth legends, and that doesn’t always match Goa’uld history.”

“Anubis ruled Shoshan for almost a thousand years, Daniel.  He made Qetesh his queen there almost two hundred years ago.”

He stared at her.  Something clicked.  “You _knew_ them.  They were the false gods who descended on your people.”

Reyenne stared at her lap and would not meet his eyes.  She spoke softly, her human voice tight with emotion. 

“When Anubis came to my world, he was gravely ill.  For a time, he was quiet, hiding in the mountains with his Jaffa warriors.  He observed us without interfering, and we left him alone as well.  After hundreds of years, the Shoshani began to take notice that he did not die, and came to him willingly to worship him.  In my people, he found converts ready to give him a new army, and after many generations of breeding and training Shoshani warriors, he conquered all of us.”

“And _you_ were given to him as a gift.”

She nodded.  “He was too infirm to touch me...”  She swallowed hard, and scrubbed away a tea, “but he found other ways for me to serve him.  Until I escaped ten years ago, and found my way among the Tok’ra.”

He stroked her hair.  “You didn’t believe the propaganda, did you?”

“That they were gods?”  She smiled bitterly, glancing at him briefly before her eyes slid swiftly away. Reyenne shook her head.  “No.  I knew better.  I saw what they were, and for a time, I was his most trusted servant.”

“His _lotaur_.”  Then he scowled at her.  “Reyenne, if you knew Anubis was alive for the last ten years or so, why the hell didn’t you _tell_ anybody?  I mean, the rest of the universe thought he was dead and we didn’t find out he wasn’t till a few months ago.  That’s a pretty important omission, in my book, and I’d think the Tok’ra would agree.”

She shrugged.  “I grew up in his shadow.  His presence was as normal to me as the sun in the sky.  It was not something I thought about, and did not understand its importance until Kirin and I were joined almost a year ago.  At that time we were stranded at a distant outpost, researching another important dig, and by the time we were able to get the message out, the Tok’ra High Council already knew.  Unfortunate timing, but it was the best we could do.”

She slowly raised her gaze to the painting on the wall. 

“I think I may know what Anubis could be planning, Daniel, but I can’t say until I have more clues.”  She studied his face, her expression part hope, part grief. 

“Can you help me?  Have you learned anything about the temple’s secrets?  Have we missed any rooms?  I know there must be _something_ else here, something we have missed.  Anubis disappeared from Shoshan for almost fifty years, leaving Qetesh to rule in his stead, until he returned.”

Reyenne loosed a trembling breath.  “I believe he came here, but what did he find here that was so important?  He would not have built this place just to satisfy his vanity, and left the people of Siraket untouched.”

She flapped a hand to indicate the temple around them, then daubed at her eyes with her fingers.

He sighed, his mind instantly shifting to the problem he’d been working on since his arrival.  “Still working on it, but I’m getting nowhere fast.  And you’re right.  All we’ve found so far have been trinkets and ego-stroking murals.  There’s definitely something here, but what that could be…  I don’t know yet.  I’ll keep looking.” 

He frowned at her.  “I haven’t seen you for a few days.  Are you avoiding me... because of... you know, what we did?”

She dropped her gaze to the floor again, seemingly nervous.  “I understand, Daniel, that you have no affection for me.  I know you find the Tok’ra distasteful, and I wished only to spare you the sight of me.  I have been sleeping here and bathing alone, so you will not feel you must watch over me.”

He lifted her chin to try to make her look at him, but she pulled away.  His heart hurt, knowing that she was just trying to protect herself from his rejection of her.  She gathered up her pencil and journal, rose and dusted off her white robe, doing anything but look him in the eye.

“Hey,” he called gently, taking her by the shoulders.

She stepped back and bowed, using the journal to cover her face completely.  Turning away, she started for the door.  Then she stopped and turned slightly, offering him a view of her profile as her symbiote spoke.

_“Reyenne respects you, Doctor Jackson, but she is a realist.  She who expects nothing shall never be disappointed.”_

“I can quote Alexander Pope, too,” he snapped, irritated by their assumption that he wouldn’t want her.  “Is she...  Have I hurt her?  Because I wasn’t trying to.  I’d like for us to be friends.”

The woman turned around, her face expressionless under the control of the symbiote. 

She cocked her head. 

 _“Both of us?”_   The corners of her mouth softened, but she didn’t quite smile.  _“Would you accept the friendship of one such as I?”_

He hadn’t expected that.  The Tok’ra weren’t known for their warmth, but this one seemed different.  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Tok’ra like you before.  And yeah, I think we could all be friends.”

She inclined her head.  _“I am unusual among my race,”_ Kirin assured him.  _“The Tok’ra tend to be solitary and secretive, as I am, but we are generally more... forceful in our personalities.  I prefer to let my host be in charge.  I enjoy experiencing through her, rather than taking control.  Perhaps I am lazy.”_

Her expression darkened.  _“Lately, though, it seems I must be in command more and more often.”_   She glanced around the room, then back at him.

_“This research is taking a great toll on Reyenne, Doctor.  The sooner she takes leave of this place, the better for us both.  Perhaps for all three of us.”_

“I get the feeling there’s another shoe somewhere, waiting to drop.”

_“Pardon me?”_

“What _aren’t_ you telling me, Kirin?”

She bowed again, Shoshani style, journal covering her face.  _“That will be for Reyenne to tell you, when she is ready.”_

He glanced up at the image of Qetesh, certain that was the key to part of it, and determined to look the goddess up and find out more about her.  He already knew she was another aspect of Hathor, Syrian style – a goddess of love and beauty.  He examined the face of the goddess on the wall through the lenses of his new glasses, and a light bulb went on over his head.

 _Of course!_   Qetesh was the goddess of love, and Reyenne had been a student in the school for Sennetna.  She had probably served directly under the Goa’uld queen, possibly even been trained by her to serve in Anubis’s harem, for whenever he regained his health. 

Daniel imagined what it must have been like for her, living daily with the Goa’uld as masters, then gaining her freedom, and now having to relive it all through these murals, in service to the Tok’ra.

 _That_ was why she had nightmares.  That was why she seemed so fragile, so easily upset, and why her symbiote had to keep such a tight rein on her emotions.  The stress was getting to her.

She’d been dreaming about Qetesh when she was sleepwalking to the temple the night he’d been intimate with her.

He had to help her. 

Reyenne needed to talk about her experiences among the Goa’uld, rather than bury them in her subconscious.  The Tok’ra were tight-lipped about pretty much everything, but Kirin had just held out an olive branch to him and offered to open the door. 

He’d be a fool to turn that down, especially when Kirin’s host desperately needed emotional support that only he could give.

He’d be damned if he’d stand back and watch while Reyenne destroyed herself while trying to find something useful for the Tok’ra or the Tau’ri to use against the Goa’uld.

Pulling his Boonie hat down to shade his eyes, he followed her out of the temple and into the late afternoon sunshine, determined to make a positive difference in at least one life.  He caught her hand just as she stepped outside, threading his fingers among hers and the pencil, offering a smile and a squeeze as he accompanied her down to dinner.  He took the lead in the conversation, rambling on about what he was finding and what was still eluding him, bouncing theories off her and listening to her opinions without bias, regardless of whether they came from woman or sentient beast.

And when dinner was over, he walked with her down the beach to an isolated spot, and bathed with her before returning to her tent and her bed for the night.

 

* * *

 

 

**September 27**

**Stargate Command**

**Earth**

“Hey, Doc.  How’s it goin’?” Jack asked as he hobbled into the office on crutches and took a seat on the couch.

“Not bad.  Have you talked to Major Carter lately?” Doctor Romani inquired pleasantly.

“I hear she’s been up to her eyeballs in some technical project or other.”  Jack saw the other man nod, his face neatly composed and professional.

“Thank you for coming.  I was curious to know if you wanted to talk to me for yourself, or about Doctor Jackson as I asked when I initially contacted you.  Major Carter has been filling in some of the gaps in the mission reports for me, in the meantime.”

Jack frowned, toying with his crutches.  “A little of both, I guess.” 

He glanced up at the man behind the desk, sitting in a wheelchair.  “You ever resent the way things are for you?”

Romani leveled him with a frank gaze.  “Of course.  Everybody does, but then you make a decision to change things or accept them as they are, and move on. Stewing over circumstances you can’t change just gives you ulcers and accomplishes nothing.”

“Yep.  That it does.”

“In my case, I have no choice but to accept things as they are.”  He patted the wheelchair meaningfully.  “What about you, Colonel?”

Shaking his head, Jack thought about Daniel and the disintegration of their relationship over the last several years.  He frowned and narrowed his gaze at the psychiatrist.  “I never liked scientists,” he admitted frankly.  “Never had much patience for ‘em.  They’re all so hung up on details, they don’t see the Big Picture.”

“And Doctor Jackson’s like that.”

“He’s eaten up with it.  Got his head so far up his ass he can’t see daylight.  Most of the time, anyway.” Jack sighed, a pang of guilt searing through him.  “Except when it really counts.  He’s saved my sorry butt a hundred times, compromised what he believes for me, but it’s hurting him inside.  It’s screwing up the way he thinks.”

“Does he talk to you about that?”

Jack shook his head.  “I _know_ Daniel.  He doesn’t have to talk to me for me to know what he’s thinkin’.  Everything he feels is written on his face in plain sight.”

“And what was he feeling during the last mission?”

“He was ready to quit.  Jetted off at the first opportunity.  Didn’t even say goodbye to me when I was in the infirmary.” O’Neill tried to brush away the hurt he felt, but it was stuck in tightly.

“And that upsets you.”

Jack glared.  “I don’t suppose you could stop doin’ that, could you?”

“Doing what?”

“Bein’ a shrink.”

Doctor Romani chuckled.  “That’s what I _do_ , Colonel. Would you prefer that I just listen, and not comment?”

“Yeah.”  He thought about it quickly.  “Uh, no.  On second thought, that would just be creepy.”

The other man rolled out from behind the desk and came to a stop in front of him. He leaned forward, elbows on the arms of the chair, and laced his fingers together.  “Maybe without so much distance between us, it’ll feel more informal.  Just a couple guys talking. Better?”

Jack eyed him.  He looked hard at the chair.  He thought of Carter the last time he’d seen her, all upset and frustrated. 

An idea struck him and he regarded the other man with a touch of jealousy.  “Are you sleepin’ with Carter, Doc?”

A glimmer of surprise flickered in those dark eyes for a moment, and then was gone.  “That’s none of your business, Colonel O’Neill.”

Nodding, O’Neill understood instantly.  “Well, if you haven’t already, you’ve at least thought about it.”  

He sighed.  “You know, of course, that if you break her heart, I’ll have to kill you.”

“She said you were protective.  Sort of like a big brother.”

“And she’d be dead right about that.  Carter’s a special gal to me.  You be careful how you treat her.”

Romani nodded.  “I’m trying, but as I said, that’s none of your business.  Back to Doctor Jackson, or the real reason you came today.”

“You like to cut to the chase, don’t you, Doc? I like that.”

“And I’m waiting.”

Jack picked at his pant leg, still swathed in bandages beneath the sweats.  “Daniel saved my life about a month ago, just after I’d told him to shut the hell up.  Why’d he _do_ that?  Why didn’t he just leave me behind?  I _know_ I pissed him off.  Probably hurt his feelings, too, but he still saved me.”

“Why does it bother you so much that he cares about you?”

Hanging his head, Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was no more running away now. He’d sorted it out in his own head already.  “Because I treat him like shit.”

“Why is that?”

For a long time, Jack didn’t say anything.  He contemplated his damanged leg, thinking about all the times he and Daniel had butted heads over the last several years. 

“Because he’s usually right about the way we handle things.  We get into trouble when we don’t do things his way.  He just doesn’t understand that what he wants isn’t the objective of the mission.  We’ve got a job to do, and he usually gets in the way of that.”

“So why don’t you listen to him?”

Jack’s dark eyes flashed up angrily.  “Because I can’t!  I have orders, and I have to follow ‘em.  Daniel’s been doing this for _six years_ , and he still doesn’t get it!”

“Then maybe he should be doing something else, or working on another team.”

“You tell him that, Doc,” Jack snapped hotly, shaking a finger in warning at the other man, “you get him reassigned, and I swear to God, I _will_ kill you!”

Doctor Romani hesitated.  He straightened in his chair.  “I expect it’s going to be a while before I have the opportunity to speak with Doctor Jackson, Colonel, but wouldn’t you rather see him happy, since you obviously care about him?”

“He _belongs_ on SG-1.  He’s been there from the beginning, and I won’t have him transferred off my team!  Do you get that?” 

He punched the air with his index finger, punctuating his words with rage.

“I don’t want to do that, sir,” said the psychiatrist, his voice gentle and warm.  “I’m trying to help you deal with what you perceive as a problem in this working relationship.”

Some of the rage bled away slightly, and Jack let himself calm down.  “Yeah. I know, Doc, but I don’t think we can cover all this in one sitting.”

“You’re right.  Still, I’d like for you to think about something until the next time we talk.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re equally defensive about all of your teammates,” Romani observed.  “Both Carter and Jackson are scientists, which you say you can’t stand.  Why is it, then, that you’re more accepting of _her_ opinions than of _his_?”

“That’s easy.  She’s a girl. Woman,” he corrected.

“And why does that matter?”

Jack _didn’t_ have an answer for that. 

He reached forward, shook the man’s hand, and stood up as Romani rolled backward to give him walking space. “I’ll think about it, Doc.  See you later.”

He hobbled out of the office and headed for the commissary, the conversation on his mind. O’Neill sat down with a cup of coffee, considering what they had discussed.  There were things about his relationship with Daniel that he just didn’t want to look at, and knew this was going to be a painful process, but he hoped it would help. 

Doctor Romani seemed like he really cared, unlike MacKenzie who seemed to be all about doing it by the book.

He thought about Sam, who appeared in the lunch line just at that moment, looking distracted and unhappy. 

He called her over and sat with her while she pretended to eat her meager salad and yogurt, and knew something was up. 

He also knew her well enough not to ask.

“You can talk to me about whatever’s bothering you, if you want,” he offered.  “I’m always here for you, Carter.”

She gave him a tired smile.  “Thanks, Colonel, but it’s personal stuff.”

“With the good doctor?”

Her humor faded. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him lately, discussing our missions so he can get a better handle on Daniel, but…”

Sam shrugged. “He’s lonely. I like him, but I’m not sure…”

“Oh.” Jack understood immediately.

“What does that mean?” Sam frowned at him.

Jack took a sip of his coffee. “It means you should ask him out, Carter. I just assumed you already had.” He shrugged, hoping he appeared unconcerned.

It would be good for her, he knew.

Her expression brightened. “Really? You think so?”

“You need a life,” he assured her. “We all do, and right now, you have the time to do something about it. Go have some fun.”

Sam’s good mood flagged a little. “I’m just not sure he’s interested in me. I mean, he’s been through a lot.”

“Only way to know for sure is to ask.”

When she looked back at him, her eyes spoke volumes.

“I’ll do that, sir. Thanks.” She stood up, carried her tray off to the disposal area and left the commissary.

Once again, Jack was alone with himself.

He didn’t want coffee. Didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to be alone with his miserable self.

Hobbling back toward his car, he drove carefully home and secretly hoped for someone to come over and distract him from his thoughts.

_If he had only listened to Daniel…_

 

* * *

 

 

**_In Space Over Earth_ **

 

Anat hid her small ship in the comet’s tail, separating from it just before it sank into the ocean.  Skimming just above the waves, she flew landward, following the tracking device toward the location of the Earth Stargate until she was very close.  Her instruments told her the location, but she dared not move close to it. 

Instead, she hid her ship in the mountains, secretly cloaked, and left it set to explode if not accessed by her key code. 

She traveled jogged toward the nearest road at an even pace, her presence hidden by her personal invisibility shield.  The first place she went once she reached the city was up to the gated enclosure sealing off the mountain where the _chaapa’ai_ was kept.  She slipped in through the arched entrance by following one of the human vehicles that was allowed inside, patiently waiting as she advanced closer and closer to the tunnel entrance.

Invisibly, silently, she stole through the base, checking out the security measures they employed. As she watched, she memorized faces, learned names, chose targets. There were some tempting ones that she wished she could take out immediately, but Ashraks were nothing if not patient. The easiest targets were not always the best to take, and to kill just after arriving would compromise her mission by alerting the Tau’ri of the enemy in their midst.

She did not go into the heart of the mountain; that would be for later, once she had the lay of the land.  For now, she had enough information to get her start.  The next step would be to blend in, find a dwelling place and make herself at home.

When she passed through the last checkpoint at the base perimeter, she returned to the road in the gathering darkness, walking within sight of it, still keeping to the cover of the trees, until she arrived in the town further down the mountain.

Though Anat was tired, this was no time to let down her guard and choose a place to sleep.

First she would have to determine what sort of shelters were safe and well hidden from traffic, and that would take a full night and day of observation. 

To do that, she would need proper clothing so she could blend in among the humans without taxing the power source of her invisibility device. 

She strolled carefully down a narrow passageway, behind a high fence.  Peering through the boards, she saw that the place appeared to be a residence of some sort. 

Clothing was hanging on a line, possibly exactly what she needed. 

Judging the size, she decided some of it might fit her and nimbly climbed the fence.

She kept to the shadows under a tree in the corner of the yard, listening and watching for people inside the house.  When she was certain no one was about, she stole forward and plucked the garments from the line. 

They were still damp, but that would be no problem. 

She turned off her stealth device and changed into the human clothes; a pair of dark blue pants of a soft but heavy-weight fabric and a pink top with long sleeves, a hood and a pouch in the front where she could put her hands to keep them warm. 

Dressed now like other humans, she could move more easily among them and returned to her trek through the neighborhood.

Weariness gnawed at her consciousness, threatening to make her careless. 

From the survival pack she carried, she ingested a small amount of stimulant to keep her alert and moved on, studying the people and buildings as she went.  The drug took effect quickly, and she gauged how long it would last before she would need another dose.

Anat listened in on conversations, stopped to pretend interest in certain objects behind large windows when something caught her attention, as she had seen others do.  One being in particular caught her eye and she moved closer to stand with a handful of others to listen. 

The man’s body odor indicated that he hadn’t bathed in some time.  His clothes were wrinkled and soiled, as if he had slept in them and worn them for days, but his eyes gleamed brightly, lit with the fire of passionate belief.

“The end is coming!” he cried, raising his arms.  He stood on top of an upturned crate, addressing the people who had gathered on the corner, most of them looking away from him.  “Fire and brimstone will rain down from the sky, and only the Hidden One can save us.”

Anat’s half-smile of amusement vanished.  _How could this one know of the Shetat, the Hidden?_   She wanted to ask questions, but no one else did, so she contented herself to listen and watch the reaction of the others.

“He’s coming, brothers and sisters!” the prophet assured them, raising his face to the sky.  “Repent of your sins while you can.  Do good works.  Help others—“

Someone handed a small folded paper to the man.  “Here, buddy.  Cancel the rest of the sermon and let me wait for my bus in peace, okay?”

The prophet studied the offering and frowned.  His eyes were sad.  “The day will come when your money will be meaningless, friend,” he said softly.  “What counts is _inside_ you.  That’s all that matters.” 

He scanned the crowd and his gaze settled on Anat.  He stared at her, his eyes suddenly filled with fear and recognition.

He _knew_. 

Somehow, this human could sense the one inside her host body. 

Anat turned away and hurried off, back the way she had come.  That encounter made her nervous, wondering if others of this race were as perceptive.  Was this how the Tau’ri had managed to be so successful against the Goa’uld?  Was it instinctive with them that they could recognize when others were hosts?

No, she decided.  If that were true, the multitude of others she had passed on the street would also have reacted to her.  They were innocent of what walked among them, save for a few like that man, and no one appeared to be listening to the alarm he had so valiantly tried to raise.

The moment of fear passed, and she returned to her study of humans in their natural environment, their culture, and their technology. 

Anat would need to learn as much as possible about them in a very short time, but Ashraks were good at that.

She would have no difficulty blending in or at least remaining unnoticed among them.

Someone passed by her in the multi-shaded green uniform that she recognized as those of Tau’ri soldiers.  She examined the young man’s face and recognized him from her recent stop with Mihos at the Alpha colony. 

 _Hernandez_ , she remembered, and fell into step behind him as he walked into a place that smelled of food.

Anat’s mouth watered, but she could not allow herself to be distracted by nourishment. 

She waited while Hernandez traded some folded paper – probably some form of currency – for a square container filled with food. 

He strolled down the street to another building and went inside. 

Anat followed him, and realized as she looked around this was a dwelling place, but not like the individual accommodations that she had raided for her clothes.  There were hallways with doors leading to separated living spaces, and he went into one marked 302. 

She moved past him, pretending she was heading for another door.

When he had gone inside his dwelling, she returned outside and took note of the building’s façade.  She could make use of this one.  All she had to do was convince him that she was just like any other young woman of his world, and that meant she had to learn the customs of this society as if they were her own.

For an Ashrak, that was child’s play. 

She strolled down the sidewalk in the twilight until she reached a building with a large window, displaying several different sized telecommunications devices.  The machines cast moving images accompanied by sound, not unlike the orbs the Goa’uld used for such purposes, but these were rectangular and only had the picture visible on one side.  The rest of the device was encased in a box of some sort.

Still, the images and sound were informational, and as she watched and listened, Anat began to learn a great deal about these… _Americans_ , as they called themselves.  They were passionate but frivolous, technologically developing but gullible, a true dichotomy of the ridiculous and the sublime. 

This study would be both enjoyable and frustrating.

She would learn, and she would find herself a place where she could set up a base of operations for the other Ashraks who would come after her.

The numbers of the assassins were few among the Goa’uld.  Rarely did one of their kind possess the patience and cunning it took to melt into the shadows, to live in obscurity rather than call attention to their power, but for those who chose this path, the rewards were great.  Ashraks saw themselves as superior even to the System Lords they served, because it was they who wielded _true_ power. 

Only the Ashraks could steal up to an enemy as he slept and deliver death gently, and in total silence.

Any fool with a ribbon device and a _ha’tak_ could pretend to be a god, but only those who truly understood the power of life and death could be Ashraks.  That was why Neith’s wisdom was so treasured among the System Lords.  Disputes among them could be settled with a word from her if bloodshed in their ranks was imprudent.

And one day, when Anat knew everything Neith could teach her, she would take her mistress’s place among the Ashraks as their master. 

This mission was just another step in that direction. 

The young woman stretched her stiff muscles as she watched the television and concentrated on her studies of the human race.

 

* * *

 

 

**October 3**

**Siraket**

Daniel spent the better part of the day drawing out the entire temple complex on a large sheet of grid paper that he had special-ordered from SGC a few days earlier.  Using an architectural scale, he patterned out all the rooms in perfect proportion to each other, then studied the layout.  Next, he superimposed the position of the pyramid on the mountaintop above the complex as best he could figure without surveying tools.

He compared the unknown spaces in the floor plan and tried to figure out what might be hidden outside – or inside – the maze. 

On this larger map, he penciled in a brief summary of the story told in the hieroglyphs. 

The pieces still didn’t fit.

Stepping outside the tent for a breath of fresh air in the late afternoon heat, he looked up the slope at the various doorways leading into the temple complex. 

“There you are,” he murmured.

There was something slightly unnatural about the slope of the mountain just beside the reclining animal statue, something that suggested that it might have been altered manually rather than by natural erosion or weathering. 

If a channel were cut directly through the mountain straight in beside the statue and then covered up, that passageway would aim _directly_ for the center space between the four rooms that had no markings on the walls.

 _Something_ had to be there, and he jogged up to the temple to direct the digging teams to tear through the back wall of one of the rooms, being as gentle as possible to prevent doing much damage to what might lie on the other side.  He took his map to show the Siraketan laborers, and then went to find Reyenne to tell her what he had planned.

Together they watched the men put muscle to stone. 

Daniel eventually wielded a pickaxe right along with them to hasten the process, and after a few hours, they punched through the wall and he backed them off. 

Peering through the fist-sized hole with a flashlight, he saw that the walls were decorated with a kind of writing that he’d never seen before, composed of swirls and loops and swashes.  It didn’t appear to be a phonetic or picture based writing, but as he directed the beam of light at another portion of the wall, he gave a little whoop of joy.

“It’s the Ancients!” he crowed, glancing over his shoulder at Reyenne.  “Their writing is in here, along with another kind of script I don’t recognize, but they were _definitely_ here, so we’ve hit paydirt.  Tomorrow we open the room carefully, and start working on translating.  Come see!”

Reyenne sidled up to the hole and slipped under him to peer in with his flashlight.  “You have seen this writing of the Ancients before, Daniel?”

“Yes.  I can probably translate most of it.  Might take a little time, though.  Maybe a few days.  The other stuff, that might be more of a problem, and since it looks like most of what’s in that room is the new script, we may be lost for a while.”

 _“Still, it is progress,”_ Kirin added.  _“We are now closer to what Anubis may have discovered here than when you first arrived.  For that, we are grateful.”_

He thanked the laborers and sent them back to the village for the night, then took another peek through the hole, his mind already spinning with possible meanings for the puzzle.  The room appeared narrow and long, disappearing out of view toward the left and right.  He could potentially spend a great deal of time there, deciphering the unknown script on those long walls.  The thought made him positively ecstatic.

“Wow,” he breathed, and turned back to his companion.  “Lucky break for you, getting chosen to head this project, especially with your history.  I’d think the Tok’ra would be a little suspicious of you, considering what they didn’t know about you.”

“It was not luck that brought me here, Daniel,” Reyenne countered quietly.  “ _I_ gave this location to the Tok’ra, once I understood what manner of threat Anubis was to the rest of the galaxy.  I had seen the star address for this planet inscribed inside his personal armor, when he returned from here a hundred years ago.  I did not know what secret he kept here but I knew it was important, and it was all I could give to the Tok’ra.  Such a gift earned me the responsibility to determine why he kept it secret, even from his queen.”

He gaped at her.  “You’re a _hundred_ years old?”  Red flags went up.  “How long do your people live, Reyenne?”

“The same as yours,” she shot back, then turned and took a lantern from the stone pedestal near the working area where it had been put to shed light on the wall for the workers.

He grabbed the other one and followed her out, the impossibility of that statement bouncing around inside his head like a ping-pong ball. 

“Wait!  Wait, Reyenne.  Tell me the rest of it!  You know that doesn’t make sense.  You can’t be that old if you’re an ordinary human, and you’ve only had Kirin for a year.  The numbers don’t add up.”

She hurried down the tunnels faster, almost running to stay ahead of his longer stride.

“Please, Daniel, do not ask me...” she whimpered.

He caught her at the entrance, grabbed her arm and hauled her to a stop.  “Tell me the rest of it.  This is what you’ve been hiding from me from the beginning, isn’t it?”

Reyenne fixed him with a haunted gaze.  She lowered her head and dropped her gaze to the floor.  “Before I was a Tok’ra, Daniel, I was a Goa’uld...  I was _Qetesh_.”

Without another word, she turned her gaze toward the tent and hurried down the slope in the gathering darkness.

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.  Ysmin’s words came back to him in a rush.

Reyenne is very old, Doctor.  And very unique.  There is little about the Goa’uld that one does not already know.

He hurried to catch up with her again, sifting through his memory banks for myth or legend or fact about anything like this ever happening before, but there was nothing.  If anyone had ever been host to both Goa’uld and Tok’ra, he was sure he’d have heard or read about it, but then, he had never heard of Reyenne… which meant that the Tok’ra had been keeping yet another secret from their Tau’ri allies.

He fell into step beside her, trying to take it all in, and fuming with bridled anger.  “You want to tell me a little more about that, Reyenne?  Because I’m seriously rethinking my people’s whole relationship with the Tok’ra, at this point.”

She kept her gaze straight ahead, her face an emotionless mask under control of the symbiote.  _“It is something we prefer not to discuss,”_ Kirin responded, _“even among the Tok’ra.  They respect my privacy, because they know how difficult this is for us both. That is why you have not been informed, not because of any wish to deceive on the part of the Tok’ra.”_

The woman stopped and faced him, her eyes glowing for an instant with symbiote anger. 

Reyenne bowed, half covering her face, Shoshani style, but it was Kirin who spoke a moment later. 

_“Please forgive me, Doctor Jackson.  I thought it best that we be honest with each other, as we have... grown close over the last few months.  Pay no attention to my irritation.  I am fond of my solitude, and of my work.  People – other beings – are a trial for me.”_

“Including me?” Daniel was a mess inside. Hurt, angry, suspicious… he couldn’t sort out his feelings, but understood this moment was important. He needed to keep his shit together and think.

She shook her head and glanced at the ground.  _“There are those among the Tok’ra who do not trust us, because of our history.  Reyenne can no longer tolerate being a single consciousness, since we have blended.  She has been too long accustomed to the presence of a symbiote within her.  I worked with her in the body of another host for many years, and when he was killed, I had no choice but to accept her reluctant invitation to save my life.  I did not know until after we became one that she had been host to a Goa’uld, or that she would become so dependent on me to survive.”_

“That’s a pretty stunning breach of trust,” he observed, pushing his long bangs out of his eyes and wishing for a decent barber.  “I’m surprised you didn’t just back right out of there.”

She shrugged.  _“I was curious, and considering our circumstances, I would not have survived until another host was located.  This was a new experience for a Tok’ra, and I wanted to learn all I could from her before I chose another host.”_ Sadness crept into her eyes.  _“But as you know, leaving her now is impossible.”_

Kirin lifted her chin and started back toward the tent.  _“The blending has been… interesting.  We have both found that our work is all that matters to us.  That is why we shun others, why we do not take a more active role in the resistance.”_

She studied him, searching for understanding.  _“We are not fighters or spies, Doctor.  We are scholars, and happier in this environment.”_

Daniel stared.  “I’ve never heard a Tok’ra talk about happiness before,” he observed.  He had a thousand questions, but recognized the gift of trust he had just been given.  His eyebrows twitched downward in concentration. “I’ll try to respect your privacy by not asking too many questions, Kirin,” he assured her. “But I have to ask this one.”

She turned slowly away and continued toward the tent at a more relaxed pace. _“All right.”_

He reached out and touched her arm, gently pulling her to a stop. He stepped in front of her, needing to look into her eyes in the fading twilight as she answered.

“I need to know.”

He thought about Sam and Jolinar, about Ammonet and Shau’ri. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest.

“How much…”

His voice quit, and he had to clear it with a husky growl before it would work again. He remembered that night when she had been sleepwalking, when she had addressed him in the language of the Goa’uld, as the queen, Qetesh. “How much of the Goa’uld survives in you?”

Reyenne’s eyes filled with tears and were blinked away. She smiled, but there was only sorrow in her face. _“This host was belonged to a Goa’uld for longer than she was a woman,”_ she answered quietly. _“For centuries she played the goddess, until she and Qetesh walked through a machine that cleansed her of the creature.”_

“Thor’s Hammer,” he guessed. “I know about this machine. I... I destroyed it. You must have been to Cimmeria before my team found it, about five years back.”

She nodded. “For a year afterward, I struggled to learn what it was to be Shoshani again.” She shook her head, and a tear leapt across her eyelashes and fell onto her lip. “But I could not… I could not bear the emptiness. It took all the courage I possess to offer my body to Kirin, and for a few days afterward her shock and outrage were so great I could barely function. And now that she has accepted me, I know that I do not have the strength to live without her.”

She started to step around him, but he caught her shoulders and held her there.

“How much of the symbiote survives, Reyenne?” he demanded, his voice quiet and patient.

Her eyes were haunted. _“We remember everything,”_ she whispered, her voice a desperate, agonized sob. _“Qetesh was... a monster.”_

Daniel regretted having pushed her so hard.

He gathered her into his arms and held her as she wept – another uncharacteristically un-Tok’ra behavior – until she separated herself from him and stepped away.

She wiped her face with her sleeve and squared her shoulders with the grace of a queen.

 _“You are kind, to offer us comfort, Doctor,”_ she sniffed.

“Please, Kirin. Call me Daniel.”

He rocked back on his heels, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets as he towered over her. “I guess that’s enough of an answer for now, but I think we should discuss it further.” He smiled. “When you feel a little better.”

She glanced at him, her face full of guilt and regret, her amber eyes swimming in fresh tears that she refused to cry. Lifting her chin, she swept by him and entered the tent without a word to Ysmin, who stepped outside as soon as Daniel entered.

 A meal had been prepared for them and sat on the study table in the back corner.

He waited until Reyenne was seated before sitting down, waited for her to serve herself and begin eating before he did, maintaining a companionable silence while pretending not to watch her every move.

He wondered as he ate the delicious meal whether the most interesting discovery of this trip might well be the woman he'd been working alongside every day, and sleeping with at night.

* * *

 

**October 9**

It had been a long day, and Daniel was tired from all the exertion.

His diagram of the temple complex had hinted at the possibility of a large square room sandwiched between those that had no writing. When they had carefully broken open a hole in the wall, that suspicion became almost a certainty – except that a narrow passageway they’d found went all the way around the central chamber, with no way in. The walls surrounding the inner chamber were harder than stone and damaged every tool they tried on it, so breaking through wasn’t the answer.

He’d have to figure a way to open it. 

For every lock, there was a key; all he had to do was find it.

To do that, he studied the writing of the Ancients incised in narrow bands between the larger unknown script, and the four pictographs at the center of each panel. The pictographs had been painted in bright colors, still clear even after untold centuries in the dark.

Daniel studied the temple layout and guessed this was the original portion of the temple, along with the four rooms that bordered it, with a straight channel cut directly to it and exiting beside the statue outside. Anubis had obliterated the original opening, hidden it in the maze of his temple as a diversion, and left only the four unmarked rooms as potential entrances to the older ruin.

This must be terribly important to the Goa’uld, to have camouflaged it so well.

And if it was important to Anubis, it was doubly so to Daniel and the Tok’ra.

The Ancients’ script was vague about what lay on the other side, but the more he deciphered it, the closer he felt he was to discovering its secrets.

Somewhere in there were instructions on how to open those walls covered in the strange writing. All he had to do was figure out the clues.

With a weary sigh, he stumbled outside and breathed in the fresh air of late afternoon. Taking his journal with all his notes, he coaxed Reyenne into taking a break for a little romantic encounter, and then finished up with a brainstorming session on the beach.

Daniel reclined against his rolled-up sleeping bag on the sand, Reyenne in his arms, his chin resting on top of her head, watching the sun go down. He felt good for the first time in ages. His face hurt, he had been smiling so much.

This, he thought, what he was _supposed_ to be doing.

“What are you thinking, Daniel?” she asked softly, and kissed his forearm. Her hand rested on his thigh, and she stroked him idly, reminding him of what they had been doing only an hour earlier.

“How right this feels,” he responded quietly. “I don’t want this to end, Reyenne. Not ever.”

She turned around in his arms and faced him, crossing her hands on his chest and resting her chin on them.

“You will have to go back to your world soon, Daniel. Even though we have not made much progress here, you must return.”

Her smile was soft and sad. “You can write to me here, if you think of things you wish me to try. You will have copies of my journals, and the notes you have taken on the temple...”

He frowned down at her, reluctant to tell her about his latest findings on the new room just yet. “Yeah. I could do that. Or I could just _stay_.”

“You are needed where you were, Daniel. We must continue to fight the Goa’uld, and the Tau’ri are the best at that.”

He sighed and leaned back, sullenly studying the darkening sky. “They don’t really need me there, Reyenne. Not any more. I’ve known that for a while; just haven’t been willing to admit it to myself.”

She sat up and looked down at her lap, her hair falling in a dark curtain that hid her face from him. “You do not know this, for certain. You only see one side of what is happening there.” Her face was shadowed against the sunset, but her voice was gentle. “You cannot leave your life behind, unless old wounds are healed.”

He didn’t want to be reminded of all that baggage at that particular moment.

Not far away, he saw the old Siraketan women painting up the men after their evening baths and wondered what design they had decorated his back with after the hunt; anything to distract him from the unpleasant subject of home.

“I don’t want to talk about that, Reyenne,” he told her, and got up from his comfortable spot on the sand.

Trudging back toward the tent, he dropped his sleeping bag in the doorway, then headed down to the village to watch the naming celebration for a baby that had been born that morning. Mother and child and the two potential fathers sat proudly in the center of a sandy circle that had been poured during the day, lit by torches all around the outside perimeter. The matriarch began to sing, pulling pots of colored sand off a nearby tray one at a time and painting a design on the ground with the colors.

Daniel compared it to both Navajo and Tibetan sand painting, and found it relaxing to watch. It took several hours to complete the picture, and when it was done the old woman had the mother put the baby to her breast and painted the same design on the child’s back. This would be the child’s personal totem, his spiritual armor, during his entire life.

Moonshine was passed around then, and everyone imbibed. There was feasting and music and dancing, and Daniel enjoyed himself thoroughly. The celebration went on into the night, and when it was fully dark, the torches were extinguished and the fathers rose from their stations. They were given two bundles of a certain type of reed, tied tightly together. The ends were set on fire and then blown out so that they glowed with ruddy light, and then the men began to dance. They waved the reed torches in the dark like sparklers, leaving trails of red light and pale smoke in the air.

Daniel watched in inebriated fascination, and as he saw the light trails moving, he sat up straight and focused all his attention on their movements.

The alcoholic haze lifted quickly as adrenaline surged through his system. He hardly blinked as he watched, listening to the chants and the songs that went along with the movements.

“Oh, my God,” he breathed. “That’s the codex! It was right in front of me all along!”

The Siraketans _themselves_ had been the repository of that unknown language in the temple, though they hadn’t known it.

The _script_ he hadn’t been able to decipher was not a language of tonal sound or picture writing, but of gesture!

All their dances he had learned told stories, much like Hawaiian dances on Earth. The hand and foot movements of the dancers told the tale, and the wavy lines and spirals and other complicated patterns painted on the temple walls in the hidden room _mimicked those motions_.

He got up and ran back to the beach, breathless to break the news to Reyenne.

She wasn’t there.

He dashed back to the tent, but she wasn’t there, either.

Settling his Boonie hat more firmly onto his head, he sprinted for the temple, drawn by the light of a torch disappearing into the tunnel.

He caught her just as she crossed the threshold of the newest room they had opened, nearly making her drop the flaming brand.

“I’ve got it!” he shouted, beaming. “Come on, let me show you.”

Grabbing her hand, he towed her into the room.

Reyenne fixed the torch into a holder set into the floor, and came to stand beside him at the wall.

“Watch this,” he told her, and turned toward the wall. Scanning passages until he recognized one set, he grasped her by the shoulders and stood her with her back against the writing. He stepped back a little and checked the glyph again for guidance.

Then he started to move.

His hands came up slowly and made little waves. “This symbol talks about the road builders – the Ancients – and the great journey they made all across the universe.”

His right arm dropped parallel to the ground, and his left hand moved over it like someone walking. “They chose to make a new place of peace, where they could live in harmony—“

He drew a circle in the air with his right hand, around the upright left palm. “—through a _doorway_. Or some kind of ‘gate, maybe, since it doesn’t look exactly round.”

Fingers touched and then flew out in all directions.

“And they closed the door after them, never to return. Can you see it, Reyenne? _This is the story of the Ancients, of what happened to them!_ We’ve found a world where they left us a record. They might have even left _from here_ , and if they did, that’s certainly a reason why Anubis would’ve thought this place was special.”

Her eyes lit up as she realized the truth of his discovery.

“Daniel! You have done it!”

She covered her mouth with her hands in surprise, and then laughed with delight.

Reyenne threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He kissed her back, delirious with his success. She was rough with excitement, her teeth grazing across his lips, but he didn’t care. He pressed her against the wall and she ground her body against him, telling him plainly that she wanted him. His hands reached for the lower part of her gown and lifted it up until he could touch her skin.

She was ready, climbing up his leg with hers. Her breathing was loud and harsh, and her hands worked his zipper expertly, pushing down his pants and pulling him out as he filled his palms with her bottom. He lifted her as she leaped upward, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He stabbed and missed, groaning as his erect member slid across her woman’s cleft, rather than into it.

“Oh, God,” he moaned. “I want you, Reyenne, need you, right _now_.”

“Yes,” she cried softly. “I am here for you, Daniel.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her away from the wall, looking over her shoulder for a comfortable place to lay her down. There wasn’t one, so he set her down and spread himself out on the floor. Reyenne pulled her robe off over her head, quickly laid it out on the floor, and reclined upon it beside him.

“I want to feel you on top of me,” she whispered.

He was quick to oblige.

His hat fell off as he settled on her, but he didn’t care. His glasses were steaming up and he could barely see her, but that didn’t matter. All that was important was being inside her.

She picked his hat up off the floor beside her head and put it back onto his head. With a smile, she pulled his glasses down a little on his nose so he could see over them, then adjusted his hat, folding the brim slightly up so she could see his eyes.

“I like the hat,” she explained, teasing him.

Smiling, he kissed her then, his hands clasping her face as their passion flared. He was on fire inside. His skin felt scorched where she was touching him, almost to the point of pain, but he couldn’t get enough of her. He was shaking with need, dying to fill her up with himself. Grasping his erection, he guided himself home as she lifted her legs to allow him entry, and groaned as he sank into her hot, wet flesh.

She rocked him as he thrust gently into her and opened his eyes as he drew slightly away, looking down into those amber windows to her soul.

She closed her eyes.

“Wait,” he breathed, and lay still.

He touched her cheek as she continued to undulate beneath him. “Please, Reyenne. Stop for a minute. Look at me.”

Instantly she obeyed, playing with his hat rather than look him in the eye.

“Look at me, Reyenne,” he ordered gently.

“Do not ask that of me,” she begged softly, turning her face away.

 _“Look_ at me.” He clasped her face in his hands and moved her back where he could see her.

She did. He saw her pain then, felt it lancing through his soul. He saw what he had never expected to see in the eyes of a Tok’ra, and felt it echo inside himself.

Reyenne _loved_ him.

Both of the beings inhabiting her body were unified in that, and the power of that revelation stunned him and humbled him utterly.

He couldn’t look away, couldn’t say the words he knew she so desperately needed to hear.

He cared about her. He wanted her to be happy and fulfilled and safe. And he realized he wanted to give all those things to her.

Daniel held her gently, his hands smoothing over her naked body. “It’s okay,” he promised her. “We’ll figure this out together.” He kissed her forehead. “All three of us.”

He could see in her eyes when he pulled back to look at her that she was too afraid to hope. Reyenne shook her head, and started to move, rocking her hips to entice him to motion. She gripped him, rippling her internal muscles, slowly clenching and releasing until he thought he would die of the pleasure. He pulled almost all the way out, then pushed fiercely back inside, his strokes powerful and sure, gentle in their violence as he battered down her defenses.

Her breathing slowed, and emotions shifted across her face as he watched. Fear and uncertainty became grief and sadness, overlaid with passion and joy. He reached for her hands, weaving his fingers between hers, telling her in the only way he could manage that she was precious to him. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as the first waves of ecstasy caught her up. Her back arched and she cried out, dissolving into tears as the crest of her climax passed.

Daniel lay on top of her, his hands moved to touch her face, fingers twining in her hair. He wanted to tell her how he felt, to tell her that she was loved, but he couldn’t force the words out.

What he felt for her was a pale glimmer of what he’d experienced with Shau’ri, but no less real. Their relationship was fraught with problems, but none were insurmountable. Whatever lay ahead of them, they could face it together.

All he had to do was say the words.

But they wouldn’t come.

And neither could he.

He let her hold him for a long time, snuggled against his neck. He knew she was aware that he hadn’t finished, but he didn’t want to talk about that. He needed to hold her, to comfort her in this fragile moment, far more than he needed his own release.

Reyenne kissed his hat, offering a false smile. “We should return to camp,” she suggested with a glance at the dying torch. “We’ll be more comfortable there, yes?”

He tried to smile back, but it hurt.

“Okay,” he agreed softly. “We’ll finish this later.”

He pushed up to his knees and rose, stepping off her robe as she got gracefully to her feet. They dressed together, neither one looking at the other. Reyenne retrieved the torch, and they walked hand in hand back toward the tent. He grilled himself about his feelings, distraught about his inability to share what was in his heart, but found no answers, only uncertainties and vagaries that told him nothing.

As they neared the tent, Reyenne walked past it and continued downslope instead.

She deftly crossed the stream with him right behind her, and switched on the MALP for him.

“You will want to call home and tell them the news,” she reminded him. “Your General Hammond will relay the message to the Tok’ra.”

For a moment, he’d forgotten all about his discovery. “Oh. Yeah, I do need to do that. Maybe I can wrangle a little more time here, too, now that we’re finally getting somewhere.”

He frowned. “But you know, when we do let the rest of the universe know what we’ve found here, the place will be crawling with archaeologists and linguists from both our camps.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Can’t we have a few more days alone, before the circus comes to town?”

She hesitated, obviously not getting that reference. “All right, Daniel. If you will do something for me, I will also not tell the Tok’ra until you wish me to.”

“What’s that?”

Switching off the MALP, Reyenne took his hand and led him back toward the tent. “Talk to your Colonel O’Neill. Tell him how you feel... even if you only do it on paper.”

She glanced up at him. “You might be surprised how much it helps to confess the things that trouble you most.... even if there is no one else there to listen.”

He frowned at her, and pouted for a minute. “As long as I don’t have to go back and tell him to his face -- sure, I think I can do that.”

She smiled genuinely, her eyes dancing in the torchlight. “Thank you, Daniel. Perhaps it will help us both.”

They reached the tent and she extinguished the torch, placing the smoking stick into a rack near the door before ducking inside. He sat down on his bed to unlace his boots, and she handed him a journal and pen.

“What, you mean, _now_?” he asked incredulously.

“It will help you heal,” she promised, and sat down on her bed, pen in hand.

From beneath her pillow she pulled a small journal he’d never seen before, and began to write in it.

Her eyes flicked up to his for a moment, and she smiled. “Yes, Daniel. I have my confessor, too.”

He wanted more than anything to read what he was sure she had written in it about himself, but that would be a flaming breach of trust he could never do.

With a sigh of resignation, he prepared himself for bed and sat in his boxers with his journal in his lap, decorating the page with his sprawling script, addressed to Jack O’Neill.

By the time he finished, Reyenne was already asleep and he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he did feel much better.

He stuffed the journal under his pillow, the corner of the page turned down, marking his place so he could tear the letter out later and destroy it.

Rather than disturb her, he slipped under the covers on his own bed, took off his glasses and laid them aside. His Boonie hat was the last thing to go, and he held it in his hands for a moment, remembering how she had played with it while they made love.

He smiled as he pictured her face as she tugged it back onto his head.

“She likes my hat,” he murmured, and promised himself to wear it every day, just for her.

 

* * *

**October 17**

Just as the chappa'ai engaged, Kirin saw Daniel come running out of the tent, still pulling on his pants.

She had not meant to awaken him, but the Stargate was noisy and she had a report to make.

He called out to her, but she turned and marched through the portal without waiting for him.

Stepping out on the other side into near darkness, she announced herself to the apparently empty underground chamber.

_“Kirin of Teldet, reporting to the Tok’ra High Council.”  
_

_“We bid you welcome, Kirin,”_ called a familiar voice. Selmak stepped out from the curve of the tunnel just ahead and lowered his weapon. _“We are eager to hear what news you bring us. Come.”_

Footsteps behind her made her turn just as Jackson stumbled through the gate.

Looking somewhat bewildered, he collected himself quickly and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

“Oh, hi, Jacob,” he greeted the other man pleasantly. “I guess I should’ve stayed on Siraket, but…”

He shot a glance at Kirin. “I wasn’t sure if you were awake.” He smiled and shrugged, obviously embarrassed.

 _“I am,”_ she assured him. _“I must report to the Council, Daniel. I will return shortly.”_

She gestured toward the ‘gate _. “I will dial Siraket for you, if you do not know the address.”_

His smile went stiff and sour. “Okay, so I guess I’m not invited.” He sighed unhappily. “I’ll see you back at the temple.”

He dialed the address himself and when he was gone, Kirin and her escort turned back to their mission.

There were formalities to be observed, and Kirin waited patiently until they were done. She stood for what felt like hours until the Council were seated, and made her report.

 _“We have made a little progress on the temple,”_ she told them evenly _. “Doctor Jackson divined the location of several new rooms, all of which are yielding little new information on Anubis. We are still pondering the true purpose of the temple, but of one thing I am certain. The site is important to Anubis. It holds some great secret that he would not entrust even to his queen, and it is my belief that he will return to Siraket soon. Perhaps within a matter of weeks.”_

 _“What brings you to this conclusion?”_ asked Garshaw. _“Have you proof?”_

She shook her head. _“No, Garshaw. I have only the intimate knowledge of the mind Qetesh, and the fact that the temple’s secrets have not yet been revealed.”_

 _“We have few reserves to protect you, Kirin,”_ Selmak told her.

She faced him, angry that he would suggest that she would be afraid for herself _. “It is not my life that needs protecting,”_ she snapped _. “It is the secret of the Siraketan temple of Anubis. Whatever it keeps hidden is of great import to the Goa’uld. For that reason alone, we must keep it from him, at all costs.”_

She lowered her gaze, deciding how much to tell them at this point.

Then she regarded the High Council. _“Doctor Jackson has discovered a room with writing we have not seen before. The walls are forged of a strange metal, and I believe Anubis’ treasure lies on the other side of it. We need only decipher this unknown text to understand how to open the door, and I believe he is close to solving that puzzle.”_

“How long do you estimate until completion of this task?”

Kirin frowned. _“I cannot say. He may have found the key, but is still working on deciphering the glyphs. There may be more yet undiscovered within other rooms in the temple. We need time, and if Anubis returns, he will have both his treasure and us as his prisoners.”_

 _“Very well,”_ agreed Garshon. _“We will send a contingent of rebel Jaffa to protect Siraket. They will arrive by ship in a few days. Until then, be careful what you reveal to the Tau’ri.”_

Kirin bowed _. “I have done so, though it is Doctor Jackson who has provided the most insight to the temple thus far.”_ She smiled a little. _“He is as brilliant as I was told.”_

_“Keep us informed, Kirin.”_

She bowed again, recognizing her dismissal _. “I shall, High Council.”_

Jacob escorted her back to the Stargate and dialed in the address to Siraket. “I got the impression you and Daniel were… close.”

A shiver of alarm shot through her. She leaned close and whispered, _“Was this your personal perspective, or do you think the High Council saw also?”_

Jacob chuckled softly. “Just me, Kirin. From the way he darted here after you, I’d say he’s pretty smitten.”

 _“He has been protective of me, yes,”_ she agreed. _“But he is not smitten.”_

The Tau’ri man gave her a wise smile. “I know Danny, Kirin. I _saw_ how he was looking at you. And I’ll caution you to keep your mind on your work. You can play later, but right now…”

_“I know, Jacob. We are working very hard to solve this mystery. We are making progress. I only hope we succeed in time.”_

“So do I, kiddo,” he returned warmly. “Tell him I said hello.”

He kissed her fondly on the forehead and sent her through the ‘gate.

Daniel was waiting outside the tent when she returned, just finishing up his breakfast. He pouted prettily, miffed that he’d had been shut out of her report.

She escorted him into the temple and spent the day with him, discussing the new script he had been working on, and trying to find the key that would help them understand the strange text, avoiding his inquiries about what she’d told the Tok’ra.

They spent the whole day struggling with the translation, working through lunch and finally leaving for the day when darkness had fallen outside.

After a bath and a hot meal, they retired to her tent to discuss their findings, and ended up in bed, sated and exhausted, curled up in each other’s arms.

Reyenne had never known such happiness.

But on this night, she shared that joy with her symbiote.

It had been Kirin whose passionate dialogue had aroused Daniel earlier, and she was the one he’d kissed when desire overcame him.

The woman smiled into the rainbow-spangled darkness, host and symbiote both, sharing their contentment as one being.

She dared not think of leaving him behind when the assignment was over. Neither being was sure they could manage that, as precious as he was to both of them. They dreamed of returning to Earth with him, of living at his side.

His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer against his body as he slept.

“Shau’ri,” Daniel whispered in his dreams.

Grief swelled in the beings, and reality returned.

His heart was unavailable, still lost in his grief for his beloved wife.

 He would never ask them to come with him, and without that invitation, their relationship would end when the mission was over.

He would walk away and never look back, and she would have to do the same.

Kirin whispered to her host to sleep, and Reyenne reluctantly obeyed, trusting her partner to keep watch during the night and remain on guard against the shadow of Qetesh that lived within them both.

* * *

**October 18**

Daniel rose early, dressing in a black T-shirt and jeans, and pulling on his running shoes instead of his boots.

Reyenne was still sleeping.

He smiled to himself, pleased that he had awakened first, for once.

He reached for the journal and re-read the letter to Jack, editing it until it said exactly what he wanted.

Sounds of movement made him look toward his lover, and Reyenne sat stiffly upright.

“Good morning, Beautiful,” he said softly.

She didn’t respond. But she did reach for her robe and mechanically put it on before leaving the tent.

He followed her out, not certain if she was sleepwalking again, or simply had something on her mind.

 Either way, he gave her space, and followed her several paces back as she climbed the mountain and entered the temple in the dark.

He took time to light a torch at the entrance and followed her in, but the moment he crossed the threshold, he knew he’d lost her.

She was moving by instinct in the darkness, and he hurried to try to find her. There were open pits in the floor in places, and he was afraid she might hurt herself by falling into one of them.

A scream echoing in the halls made him break into a run, turning around and heading down another passageway, toward the sound.

“Reyenne!” he called. “I’m coming!”

Rounding a corner, he sped into one of the blank rooms and froze.

She was standing in the middle of the room, struggling to get away from a Jaffa warrior in full battle dress, the mechanical jackal-shaped helmet on his head glaring at her with glowing cyan eyes.

“Oh, my God!” he breathed.

Wielding the torch like a weapon, he ran at the soldier, just as the alien touched his jeweled cuff to call the transport rings.

 

* * *

 

Mid-morning passed, with no sign of either of the archaeologists.

Ysmin fretted over the ruined breakfasts, but her petulance dissolved into worry as more time passed. She sent search parties into the temple and down the beach, but each group came back empty-handed. The only clue to where they had been was an extinguished torch inside the temple, with half of its handle neatly vanished.

She went back to the tent and searched for a clue to where they might have gone. One of Doctor Jackson’s journals lay open, but she couldn’t read the writing. She would simply have to wait for them to return, from wherever they had gone.

The old woman smiled to herself as she thought of how close the man and woman had become.

For the first time in her long life, she had seen her mistress happy at Jackson’s side.

And Ysmin hoped that, wherever they had gone, they were together.

 

* * *

Daniel’s swing landed with all the power he could muster on the side of the Anubis helmet.

The Jaffa lunged at him, pushing him backward with one mighty hand as the rings deposited them into the interior of the mother-ship floating in space above Siraket.

Daniel stumbled backward, and the torch handle skittered away on the marble floor.

He scrambled to his feet, but the Jaffa was ready for him and aimed a zat gun, firing before he could take a step. Daniel grunted as the blast caught him, knocking him out instantly.

He lay still on the floor, eyes closed, breathing slow and shallow.

Reyenne screamed and struggled in the soldier’s grip, kicking at his shins ineffectively.

“My master will be unhappy that his temple has been violated by the likes of _you,”_ the Jaffa growled, sneering greedily at her. “Perhaps he will give you to me as a plaything.”

The woman caught herself and held still.

She drew herself up, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Her eyes glowed in warning, and when she spoke, her voice was not human, but haughty and filled with venom. _“Release me, slave, or I will kill you where you stand!”_

The Jaffa obeyed instantly, startled by the order and the voice that gave it.

 _“Kneel before me!”_ Kirin seethed. _“Have you no respect for your gods?”_

He hesitated.

 _“On your knees!”_ she bellowed, fists clenched at her sides _. “And then you must go and tell Lord Anubis that his queen, Qetesh, has returned to him.”_

She leaned close to the soldier’s face, tiptoeing up to him _. “I assume you know that name, do you not, slave?”_

He was quivering now, eyes wide with fear. “Yes, great one.” He dropped down quickly on one knee, offered speedy obeisance and then dashed out of the ring room to do her bidding, calling for other Jaffa passing by in the corridor to fetch the prisoner on the floor.

 

* * *

_**The First Day** _

**Above Siraket**

Osiris strode into the throne room, irritated that she had been called so late. She took one look at the woman in the white robe and sneered, recognizing a rival when she saw one.

Then she saw the body on the floor, and laughed.

 _“Where did you get that, Anubis?”_ Osiris asked, turning to the hooded figure sitting in the great golden chair. She pointed to the unconscious man at his feet.

_“In my temple. What amuses you so, Osiris?”_

_“Do you not know who lies there on your floor?”_ the blonde woman asked, beaming.

The dark one shook his hooded head. _“Someone you know?”_

 _“One of the Tau’ri,”_ she explained merrily. _“You have captured Doctor Daniel Jackson! Of all the Tau’ri, he is the most valuable to us. This should please you greatly.”_

Anubis didn’t move, but continued to stare down at the body on the floor. _“You are certain of this?”_

_“Oh, yes! Fortune smiles on you, my son. There lies your new host, and when you have taken him, you shall have access to all the knowledge he possesses. I cannot imagine a better choice, both for what he knows, and for the horror on the faces of his compatriots when they realize who he has become.”_

She clapped her hands, delighted. _“Through him you might even be able to invade Earth itself! Can you imagine it?”_

The purr of husky male laughter rippled in the air.

_“Have you brought me this as a gift, Qetesh?”_

Reyenne drew herself up proudly. In the voice of the gods, she replied haughtily, _“I have, and he has been hard won. Do not underestimate the trouble I have gone through to bring him to you.”_

_“I assumed you had been killed on Cimmeria.”_

_“I was on a mission of my own for a time, but learned that my place is beside you, my lord.”_ Reyenne bowed to him. _“I knew I could not return to you without a worthy gift, and set about finding a prize that would earn the return to your good graces. Does this please you?”_

She lifted her amber eyes to the dark shadow within the hood, gesturing at the figure on the floor.

 _“It does, my queen. And you shall be sweetly rewarded, once I have taken my new body.”_ The Goa’uld pointed to the unconscious man, and the Jaffa soldiers standing nearby hauled it away.

 

* * *

  
Daniel began to rouse as his feet were being dragged along the smoothly polished stone floor of the corridor. He raised his head with difficulty, searching for Reyenne, for anything familiar, but recognized at once that he was aboard a Goa’uld mothership. He would be imprisoned, of course, but what happened to him next wouldn’t be a good thing.

He’d have to escape as quickly as possible, but he had to save Reyenne, too.

He couldn’t leave her there, at the mercy of whatever Goa’uld controlled that ship.

By the time the guards turned into the small, ornately decorated room, he was walking on his own, looking around for any avenue for escape or evidence where Reyenne was being held.

But as soon as Daniel saw the table in the center of the room, he began to struggle in earnest.

There was only one use for that table, so well padded for comfort, with a hole cut into one end of it specifically to fit a human face, and shackles attached for restraining arms and legs.

_Whoever laid on it would go down a man, and come up a monster._

Half a dozen Jaffa guards tackled him. They beat and kicked him, and wrenched him back to his feet by his arms. He shouted at them, kicking and jerking, trying to free himself from their grip, but inexorably they drew him to the table and fastened his limbs down. His clothing was cut away, dropped on the floor carelessly until he lay naked, still struggling and shouting in protest.

One of them removed his glasses and crushed them on the marble floor.

Daniel craned his neck, looking left and right, hoping someone would come to help him.

His heart pounded, and he started to cry.

Multi-tonal laughter sounded as a figure in a dark, hooded robe came toward the table.

Something bright glimmered past him, and he squinted to focus on it, his heart leaping as he recognized a familiar face.

“Sara, help me!” he called.

His former lover dismissed the guards with a glance.

 _“Sara is no longer here, Daniel,”_ Osiris answered coolly _. “Nor will you be, for much longer.”_

She turned to her dark companion. _“Are you ready, my son?”_

The creature put back his hood and sat down on a gilded chair.

Daniel froze at the sight of the Goa’uld’s horrible face, mutated and scarred beyond belief. Then he struggled even harder, unable to take his eyes off the thing, his bladder warning him that it had reached its limit. His muscles clenched as the hideous monster seemed to wither, the light in its eyes fading, and its head drooped on its chest. Out of its mouth came the snake-like symbiote, right into Sara’s waiting hands.

And with a beaming smile and a gleam of avarice and triumph in her lovely eyes, she walked right up to the table where he lay.

“No! Oh, God, please, Sara, _noooooo!”_

Daniel screamed and fought, ready to jerk his arms out of the sockets if it would free him.

The creature was warm and slimy as it writhed on his back.

He bucked on the table, trying to shake it off, but it struck the back of his neck, slicing his skin open with its razor-sharp fangs.

Pain lanced through him, down to his toes and up to the top of his head. He continued to shout and struggle as the thing burrowed into his neck. His voice caught for a moment as part of the long body inched downward, pressing against his voice box as it snuggled up to his spine. His head hurt tremendously as pressure built up in his brain, and for a moment he held still, unable to move, completely blinded and paralyzed by unimaginable agony.

Breathing was all he could concentrate on, just keep breathing.

The pressure in his head increased and he could feel the creature moving, settling into place.

He started to shake again, to fight it, but his movements were slower now, his shouts fading.

He wriggled a little, moaning as he felt himself starting to slip as the pressure eased. He was tired, so tired, and fighting was useless. The symbiote was inside him now, the pain of its entry already fading as it began to heal the wounds it had made in his flesh.

“No,” he begged in a raw whisper, stretching against the table, flexing his fingers and toes. “I don’t... want...you to...”

His eyes closed. He lay still. And then he smiled.

 _“Release me,”_ he ordered, his voice no longer his own. He laughed.

The command was obeyed instantly.

Osiris personally released the shackles and appraised him before handing over golden robes that he put on with great pleasure.

Anubis flexed his hands and glanced at them. He frowned.

 _“He did not see well?”_ Anubis asked Osiris, squinting at her. _  
_

_“That is easily enough repaired,”_ she reminded him.

Anubis blinked several times, and finally focused on his companion’s face.

_“This body is strong and beautiful. It pleases me.”_

He reached for the blonde goddess, clamping his fingers around her slender wrist and hauling her close. _“And now I shall enjoy the beginning of my plan to dominate the System Lords. Have you contacted Kali?”_

Osiris smiled and stroked her fingers across his chest, nodding. _“She arrives within three days.”_ She glanced over her shoulder at the other woman, standing quietly by the door. _“Do you wish your queen to meet her with us?”_

The Goa’uld’s eyes shifted to take in the dark haired woman in white. He searched for her image in his host’s memory. And smiled as he saw her impaled upon him and crying out with joy.

_**No! No, you can’t have what I know about her!**_

_“This host’s mind is strong, Osiris. It will give me great pleasure to destroy him, little by little.”_

Anubis glanced at Reyenne and curled his lip in disgust.

_“You look like a slave, Qetesh. Take yourself to my quarters and inform the slaves to bring you proper clothes and jewels as befits your station. Bathe and perfume your body for me, and wait in my bed. I shall not be long.”_

Turning to Osiris, he gave her a smile _. “I will bathe and enjoy my queen. Come to me when Kali has arrived, and Qetesh will accompany us to greet the daughter of Apophis and Hathor.”_

He started to add to that, to offer Osiris a tempting morsel of what lay ahead, but it was more delicious to wait and leave everyone else in the dark.

That was where Anubis was most at home.

* * *

 

**Stargate Command**

**Earth  
**

Jack finished the physical therapy session with a groan, grateful to sit still for a moment while his leg quivered and reminded him that he still had a way to go in the healing process. Doctor Frasier had promised him one more month and he’d be ready for duty, back to his old self again, but time was passing entirely too slowly for him. Still, he was getting around on his own now with the aid of a cane, driving himself places and doing a lot of walking, per doctor’s orders.

Lately he had taken to coming into the base and catching up on the paperwork he hated, reorganizing his office and taking care of other chores he didn’t particularly enjoy, but always waited for him on the back burner. He visited the training classes, watched new recruits being run through their paces and hung with some of his buddies in the commissary when they had time to spare for him… all of which made him feel completely useless.

That was what retirement held for him, and he wasn’t ready.

He thought about Daniel, about what he’d said just before the natives got restless on that last planet.

Daniel had wanted to talk – hell, Daniel always wanted to talk about _something_.

But Jack had lost patience with his endless chatter and just wanted him to shut the hell up for a change.

And he got it. Right before he’d nearly gotten his leg blown off, and Daniel had carried him to safety.

O’Neill wandered outside with his cane, breathing in the crisp autumn mountain air. He strolled around the back of the base and watched a group of fresh-faced kids fully loaded with heavy backpacks and all their gear, running by the rock where he took a seat, training for the chance to make a difference.

That was all Daniel had wanted, really, was to make a difference. Both men knew it. That was all either of them wanted, but they had two vastly different philosophies to make that happen. Each thought they were right, but Jack knew that Daniel’s gentle way had often been more productive than the military way – get _in, get the job done, get out with everybody alive. Nobody gets left behind…_

Except for Daniel.

They had dropped him off by the wayside as the team went hunting for technology, and his original role had been slowly forgotten. He was just a number in the group, another warm body called on occasionally for directions or translations, but rarely counting in what they accomplished.

And lately, that hadn’t been a whole hell of a lot.

Jack sighed. Maybe Daniel _would_ be better off staying on at the dig and helping the Tok’ra with that. He’d certainly be happier, and Jack _did_ want him to be happy.

For such a young man, Daniel had had way too much tragedy and heartache in his life. Jack couldn’t even remember the last time he’s seen his teammate smile.

When Daniel had first returned from Abydos, smiles had come more easily to him because he’d been with Shau’ri.

After her death, after all they’d been through, it seemed the young man no longer had reason for humor or lightness in his being.

“There you are!”

He turned as Sam strode up, her usually bright smile of greeting missing in action. “What’s up, Carter?” he asked. “I take it from the look on your face that it ain’t good news.”

“Not exactly bad news, either,” she shot back, coming to stand by him as another flight of recruits ran by with their DI running backwards and shouting at them.

She eyed him worriedly. “We haven’t heard from Daniel. He’s three days late reporting in.”

Fear instantly clutched at his heart. “Maybe he’s just having so much fun digging in the dirt that he forgot.”

The suggestion was weak and he knew it, but it was hopeful.

Only he knew better, and so did Carter.

“That’s not Daniel,” she returned with a shake of her head. “He always turns in his reports on time. Even when he’s in the infirmary.” Her concern was obvious.

Jack bowed his head, thinking. “Call Jacob and ask if the Tok’ra have heard from their guy on planet. If not, we go check it out.”

She looked pointedly at his left leg. “The General won’t let you go yet, Colonel. You know that.”

He gazed up at her, eyes narrowed with intent. “He will if you get that Gould healing thingy we’ve got in storage and fix me, so we can go help Daniel.”

“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll go get it.” She laid her hand gently on his shoulder. “He’s gonna be all right, Colonel O’Neill. He _has_ to be. We _need_ him.”

Jack’s throat was tight as he caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Yeah. I know. He’s the best of us.”

She nodded, her expression grave, and turned to go back inside and check out the device from storage.

Jack looked up at the sky and hoped his young friend was sunning on a beach somewhere, looking at pretty women. That was the sort of thing Daniel needed to do. He needed to discover life and have a little fun instead of being so deadly serious all the time.

And Jack promised himself to teach that to the younger man, working with him until they both found something they enjoyed equally.

Maybe if they had some fun together, it would help keep things a little more in perspective for them both and heal the rift between them.

* * *

 

_**The Second Day** _

**Above Siraket**

Anubis rose from the bed, sparing a glance at the young woman lying so quietly on the silken sheets.

 _“Why did you run away from me, Qetesh?”_ he asked quietly, and poured himself a cup of wine. He lifted it to his lips as he watched his mate rise. Then he glanced into the mirror his _lotaur_ had brought in while he bathed, and admired his new body in its silvery reflection.

 _“I wished glory of my own,”_ she replied haughtily _. “And I knew I would never have it, lost in your shadow. I did not go to the place you sent me, choosing instead to seek weapons that would give me power greater than yours.”_

He chuckled _. “You do not seem to have found it,”_ he observed sagely. _“Why were you on Siraket, my pet?”_

 _“I knew you hid something there, and I wanted it.”_ She dressed carefully, finger-combing her dark hair into place after he had so thoroughly mussed it. When she was properly arranged, she poured herself a cup of wine, but did not meet his eyes.

_“You are correct. I have hidden a mighty weapon there. One that assures me absolute rule over all the System Lords.”_

That startled her. _“You intend to destroy them?”_

He smiled _. “No. Not at all. But when I have met with them, they will serve me willingly. Soon, you will see it in action.”_

 _“And Osiris, as your agent, has arranged the meetings.”_ She returned to the bed and sat down on it. _“Will there be a place in your circle for me, my lord?”_

 _“Until I have reason to doubt you, yes.”_ He sighed and wandered over to stroke her bare shoulder _. “Did you miss me, Qetesh?”_

She shot him a scathing glance. “ _No. But I have missed being treated with proper respect.”_

The woman pushed his hand away. She rose and started to sip her wine. _“I will serve you as my master, Lord Anubis. And now that you have tasted a sample of what I can do for you, perhaps you will make me a System Lord as well.”_

He laughed, thoroughly amused at her boldness _. “Ah, my pet. You have great ambition.”_ He tossed his robe at her _. “Dress yourself like the queen you are. One day soon, we shall spawn a new race of conquerors, Qetesh. Your children will rule the universe.”_

She said nothing, but bowed her head obediently _. “I shall dress and meet you wherever you choose, my master.”_

Osiris strode in, and Reyenne covered herself with the robe.

The blonde sneered at her, and turned to Anubis. _“Kali has arrived, and will come to your throne room shortly. Do you wish to bathe first, or come as you are?”_

 _“I will wash myself,”_ he responded _. “I have missed the luxury of bathing during my convalescence. And though I am sure Kali would appreciate the view of my new body, I shall also dress. You will attend Kali until I arrive, Osiris.”_

He gave a slight bow, smiling at her intently. _“And then we shall begin.”_

Osiris returned it, and left the massive bedchamber to greet their guest.

 

* * *

 

_**The Third Day** _

The warm water running over his body was delightful, but Anubis did not want to keep his guest waiting. Kali’s temper was legendary among the Goa’uld, and his relationship with her tenuous at best.

Still, Osiris had brought her here with barely a ripple of suspicion.

He glanced at the statue gracing his bathtub, water flowing freely from the jar held by the white marble figure, carved with his own hands eons ago. His heart ached, and he splashed over to it, his fingers caressing the smooth face.

 _“Beloved,”_ he breathed, encircling it with his arms as he had done so often over the millennia.

But she was gone, had been gone far longer than she had been alive.

Anubis brushed the cold stone cheek with his lips and pulled away, stepped out of the tub and allowed his _lotaur_ to dry him off and dress him. He sent the man away with a flick of the wrist, and strode purposefully to his throne room.

Qetesh was already there, her slender body draped with gold tissue that offered just a hint here and there of the treasures beneath. Jewelry sparkled at her neck and fingertips, and her eyes and lips were painted with dark colors that made them glow.

He smiled at her appreciatively, and gave her an approving nod as he took his seat in the marble chair, softened with cushions of black velvet and gold braid.

Moments later, Osiris entered and announced their visitor, complete with Jaffa guards and a retinue of servants.

Anubis offered Kali refreshments, showed her all the courtesy of one System Lord to another, and saw that she approved.

 _“Do I not know you?”_ the Destroyer asked, studying his face. “ _I have seen this host before. I am sure of it.”_

 _“At the summit,”_ Osiris answered for him. _“This one was servant to Lord Yu, and now hosts Anubis, your ally._ ”

Anubis felt the memory flash into his mind at her reminder. The host had been caught off guard, and not been prepared to withhold that bit of information. He would remember that, and use it later. But for now, other things were more important than the memories of Daniel Jackson.

_“Ah, yes. I remember. Odd that you would choose a servant of Lord Yu for your host, since he tried to kill you.”_

_“A fitting revenge, yes,”_ Anubis agreed with a chuckle, _“but this form pleased me.”_

He eyed her retinue, and his smile faded. Leaning toward his guest, he murmured, _“Goddess Kali, I have invited you here to discuss with you a certain legend.”_

She sighed and shook her head, the jeweled fringe on her turban dancing across her brow _. “I have no time for storytelling, Anubis. Worlds plead for my attention, and discipline must always be swift and harsh, if we are to maintain power. You know this.”_

 _“For the Tejenna legend, all Goa’uld have time,”_ he responded quietly.

Osiris looked distinctly surprised at the mention of that ancient race.

So did Kali. She turned to her supporters and sent them away with a violent wave of her hand. Glittering, glowing eyes turned back to him. _“What of this myth? What have you heard?”_

Anubis shrugged. _“The prophecy grows. Even among the Shoshani, some whisper it in the dark, and they are my most loyal, most ardent worshippers. The time is coming, Kali, and it will be soon. We must seek out the One, and destroy him.”_

Kali’s eyes flashed. She bared her teeth in anger. _“And how do you propose we find him? Seek oracles? Query prophets? We have spent centuries stamping out this legend, and still it grows.”_

 _“There are signs and portents,”_ Anubis told her, fostering the air of mystery. _“I have found a place that sheds much light on this tale. Will you come with me to see it?”_

She hesitated, aware of her vulnerability, outnumbered as she was between Anubis and his supporters _. “I will call my Jaffa—“_

 _“Only Goa’uld eyes may see the writings,”_ he argued gently, his voice a deeply sensual purr. _“You know this, Kali. I have invited you that you may aid in the quest to find this… abomination. But if you choose safety in numbers, so be it. I will require that your Jaffa be killed once they return from this journey. They cannot be allowed to see what they will see, and live.”_

She thought about that, her eyes narrowing as she contemplated. _“Very well. As this is a matter for the Goa’uld, I will accompany you.”_

 _“Along with Osiris and Qetesh. We are all affected by the Tejennan prophecy. And I promise to bring each of the System Lords here, and reveal to them what I show you today.”_ Anubis kept his expression grave, though he was trembling with excitement. He rose and led the way to the ring room.

He nodded to Osiris, who picked up a large pot just before stepping into the circle.

 _“What is that?”_ Kali demanded.

 _“Look and see,”_ Anubis teased.

Lifting the lid, Kali peered into the water and heard the cry of a young Goa’uld as it surfaced. _“Whose child is that?”_

 _“Mine,”_ he admitted with a trace of pride. _“I expended energy I could ill afford some years ago, and sent emissaries to Bastet to persuade her to give me children. She did not know my identity, but the gifts I sent her were rich enough that she chose to comply. My emissaries returned later with my offspring, whom I have tended well in preparation for this day.”_

The rings rose noisily around them and deposited them in a dark room. Qetesh ignited a lantern, and its blue-white glow provided illumination enough to see much of the large room.

 _“To what purpose do you bring your young here?”_ Kali inquired _. “I see no place for it to be housed, save that jar.”_

Anubis strolled toward a small pedestal near the center of the room. To Osiris he nodded leftward. To his queen he nodded right, leaving Kali in the middle of the floor.

She glared at him, dark eyes blazing _. “What trickery is this? I see nothing of the prophecy here.”_

He smiled _. “You stand in the Storehouse of the Ancients, Kali, which I have already raided for elegant weaponry that will allow us to defeat the Asgard, to enslave the Nox, to triumph over every race that now lives. Does this not please you?”_

Avarice glowed in her eyes. She smiled _. “Yes, Lord Anubis. It pleases me very much. But what of the legend?”_

 _“The prophecy states that, when the Goa’uld are at the height of their power, he will come.”_ He regarded the device lying dormant on the pedestal. _“And with what I have found here, we will shortly have nothing standing in our way.”_

 _“So it is time,”_ Kali said, sobering. _“We must apply every effort to the search for the One. Show me, where is the key to his identity?”_

Anubis lifted the device. He held the tube just behind the bell-shaped shield, fitting his right hand into the hollow end facing him. _“Look right in here,”_ he instructed her, and pointed it at her throat.

Lightning poured out of it, red rays striking her body. She danced and screamed as the energy poured through her, and when it was done, she slumped to the floor, panting.

 _“Where is Kali?”_ Anubis asked, settling the weapon onto the pedestal again. He glanced at Qetesh and Osiris, and saw by the looks on their faces that they understood what he had done, and were horrified.

Osiris recovered quickly, and with a motion of his hand to the blonde, she came forward and knelt beside the woman, placing the pot on the floor.

“Oh, my lord Anubis,” the host of Kali gasped, turning her face up to him. “Thank you! I was a prisoner for so long—“

He reached into the jar and pulled out the larva, just matured enough to take a host. With one hand on her shoulder, he pressed her face down against the floor and laid the young one on her back, watching with satisfaction as instinct drove it into her neck. She screamed and begged him for mercy, but in moments the struggles stopped.

She blinked her eyes.

 _“Rise, my child,”_ he told her. _“You will take the name of Kali the Destroyer, and rule all her worlds. It is a great day for both of us, little one.”_

She wiped the floor grime off her face with a look of disgust.

 _“I am the goddess Kali,”_ she repeated quietly _. “And I owe fealty to my father, Anubis.”_

She knelt before him briefly, then rose and met his eyes. _“I have the memories of Kali to guide me, father, but I will follow your direction, as I am young and inexperienced and in need of your wisdom until I am more sure of myself.”_

He offered a gracious nod and kissed her forehead _. “It is well, Kali.”_

He stroked her cheek, but felt nothing for her. She was a tool, and nothing more, even though she was the seed of his body. This was Bastet’s child, more than his. She was the product of a business deal.

His eyes went to Qetesh, standing in the corner of the room.

She held herself as if she were cold, huddled in on herself and shivering.

He would warm her soon enough, and smiled at her in reassurance. Her eyes glimmered with fear as she regarded him, fear of his power, demonstrated in that darkened room deep in the heart of the mountain.

The grating sound of ceramic on stone made him glance at Osiris, bending down to retrieve the pot. _“Thank you for your assistance, my father. Soon, we shall have the universe at our feet.”_

 _“And the Feather of Maat shall weigh the hearts of all,”_ Qetesh murmured, trembling in the cold. She was obviously terrified.

That same fear touched him briefly, and was gone.

 _“Do not fear, my queen,”_ he told her softly. _“No one can defeat us now. The Feather of Maat will soon be no more than a whisper among frightened slaves.”_

He gathered them close and touched the jewel on his cuff, calling the rings to retrieve them to his ship, so he could send the new Kali on her way.

 

* * *

 

_**The Fourth Day** _ _  
_

_Shadows,_ Daniel thought. _That’s all there is in his mind._

He could feel his body in repose, Reyenne lying beside him. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her that everything would be all right, but he couldn’t make his mouth work even while Anubis was sleeping.

The Goa’uld was very old and had learned long ago to control his host body with steely efficiency, and no matter what Daniel tried, he couldn’t countermand Anubis’s slightest whim.

Daniel remembered what Kendra had told him on Cimmeria, how she influenced her host with quiet suggestion. He had tried that, too, but to no avail.

Anubis closed him out when he shouted to be heard, ignored his subliminal suggestions.

There was no way the old one would allow him any kind of influence, no matter how minor.

But when Anubis slept, his mind was unguarded and Daniel turned the tables, prowling around in the Goa’uld subconscious for anything he could use as a weapon, or for control, anything that might be a bargaining chip at the right moment.

What he found horrified him.

He turned instead to technical knowledge, raiding as much information as he could grasp of Goa’uld science. For days he had struggled, searching for a weapon against Anubis, and now that the alien was recovering in his healthy new body, it seemed there was no escape. The imprisonment would be forever, and after long enough under the influence of the sarcophagus, what there was of Daniel Jackson would slowly die away.

Anubis would be staying on Siraket until he had lured all of the System Lords there and replaced them with his children. That could be weeks, or even months. But Daniel knew that he was long overdue to report in, and that would mean someone would be coming to check up on him. He had buried that information deeply along with all the other secrets he held dear, but it was just a matter of time before Anubis wormed all of that out of him.

And when he did, the rescue party from SGC – most likely his closest friends – would die along with the woman he loved.

His arm reached across Reyenne’s waist and pulled her close. He heard her sigh, and a soft sob escape her as she dreamed. Kirin was doing an admirable job pretending to be Qetesh, and he found it ironic that Anubis was doing exactly the same thing – replacing one symbiote with another, using the memories of one to facilitate the impersonation of the other.

It was a brilliant plan, really.

But what scared him were the details of the war plans so firmly fixed in the Goa’uld’s mind. The weapons had all been tested and were being manufactured on Shoshan and a dozen other worlds that fell under Anubis’s sway.

And neither the Tau’ri nor the Asgard stood a chance against them.

He had to find a way out, a way to help his people survive. If he could just get Reyenne back to Siraket, let her loose on the planet, she’d go back to the Tok’ra and safety, and troops would come.

They would come to destroy Anubis, and in the same moment, kill Daniel.

But he had to save Reyenne somehow.

_Somehow._

The answer, he was sure, lurked in the dark places of the Goa’uld’s mind, and he was going to have to be brave enough to go there and face the nightmare memories that awaited him.

He had to do it for Reyenne. For his teammates, who would come looking for him soon. And for his world.

 

* * *

**22 October**

 

Jack stood in the embarkation room impatiently checking his watch, cane in his left hand, bearing some of his weight to take the load off his injured leg. Every second that passed was time they needed, time that might mean life or death for Daniel. Finally the watery surface settled and Jacob stepped through, his face drawn with worry.

“We’ve got trouble,” Jacob announced. “I’d have been here sooner after I got word about Daniel’s disappearance, but…” He hesitated, glancing around the ‘gate room at the soldiers on guard. “Not here. Let’s get to the briefing room.”

“It’s been three days already since Daniel reported in last,” Jack snapped. “We’ve gotta find him, and make sure he’s okay. I’m waiting for your daughter to fix my leg, so we can go.”

“It’s not that simple,” Jacob returned.

“What’dya mean, it’s not that simple?” Jack shot back irritably. “I get fixed. We go get Daniel. Simple.”

“We received a transmission from our expert at the dig on Siraket two days ago, warning us that Anubis might return to the planet in the very near future. We sent a contingent of rebel Jaffa troops in a ship to act as guardians for the site, but they never arrived.”

Sam came in just then, gave her father a quick hug, and knelt down to begin work on the Colonel’s injured limb.

Jack flexed his leg when she was finished, sighing with relief at the lack of pain. He strode over to a waste can and dropped the cane into it. “Which means it’s too damn late,” he assumed, fear and anger welling up in him. “And you guys couldn’t have gotten us on the horn and let us know, so we coulda pulled ‘em outta there?”

His eyes accused the other man, but Jacob stared right back. “You don’t understand what that place _is_ , Jack. It’s _important_.”

“And now the Gould have it, along with Daniel and your guy, too. That’s just peachy. Do you know who was in the welcoming party?”

A muscle twitched in Jacob’s jaw. His dark eyes burned with hatred. “Osiris,” he answered in a low growl. “And Anubis.”

“For cryin’ out loud!” Jack threw up his hands in frustration, turned away in despair.

His guts clenched. He wanted to hit something. Or somebody.

“We’ve got to get there yesterday, Jacob! If Anubis doesn’t have ‘em already, he will soon. We gotta help ‘em, right _now.”_

He glanced up into the observation booth at General Hammond. “Are you giving the order, sir, or am I going alone?”

Hammond shook his head, blue eyes flashing, mouth set in a grim line as he activated the mic. “We need more intel before I send troops to Siraket, Colonel. You _know_ that. I have to know what we’re walking into and assess the risks.”

Jack’s anguish broke through his military bearing. He bowed his head, grasping one of the rails beside the ramp and holding on for dear life. “So we just sit on our hands and wait?”

With a heavy sigh, the General nodded. “That’s it _exactly_ , Colonel. I’m not sending you in blind.”

O’Neill stepped toward the ‘gate and stared at it. His hands clenched into fists and his breath came slow and harsh as he exhaled. Eyes gleaming with rage, he pivoted on his heel and left the room, doing his best to slam the heavy door as he left.

 

* * *

 

_**The Fifth Day** _

_“It is a great day!”_ Anubis announced brightly. _“I have a celebration planned in honor of my queen.”_

Osiris ate her breakfast languidly, more interested in her wine than the perfect fruit on her plate. _“What sort of entertainment could you possibly find in this dreary place?”_ she demanded. _“There is nothing here.”_

He saw that Qetesh hadn’t touched her food, just sat obediently by his side with her hands in her lap and head down. That disturbed him. Quetesh was fiery – that was one of the reasons he had been attracted to her in the first place.

Now, she seemed defeated, humbled by her failure to achieve greatness on her own.

 _“The past does not matter, Qetesh,”_ he assured her in a soft murmur for only her ears. _“You will be at my side, my queen. Your greatness will come from me. It will be enough.”_ He touched her chin with his fingertips, but she turned her head away.

 _There_ was the defiance he liked. He smiled and clapped his hands. _“Come, my ladies. We will gird ourselves with armor and finery the like of which the people of this world have never seen. And we will show them what it is to look upon the face of a goddess, and not know her.”_

He touched Qetesh lightly, but she simply rose from her seat and padded quickly away to do his bidding.

Osiris rose as he regarded her. _“What do you mean to do with these simple slaves?”_

Fire rose inside him. “ _They have seen me as a man and called me friend,”_ he growled back. _“They have labored for Qetesh and not offered her worship in return. They cannot be allowed to live, Osiris. All who see me now must know that I am Anubis, and tremble before me, and Qetesh as my queen.”_

Osiris chuckled. _“This should be fun,”_ she returned with a rakish grin. _“I will dress for blood, then, my son, and take pleasure in watching you take your vengeance on the ignorant.”_

She gave him a regal nod, and left for her own chambers.

He took his time preparing, inspecting his Jaffa troops personally before sending them through the rings, into the temple to await his order to disperse. When they had gathered, he made his way to the doorway and surveyed the pastoral scene.

The sky was clear azure, filled with puffy white clouds. The grass sparkled green in the sunshine, and the water glimmered a thousand shades of blue. All along the stream below, hide tents were set up and villagers went about their business, innocent of their doom.

Anubis himself led the way, Osiris at his left hand and Qetesh on his right. He held his queen’s fingers up in the air, parading her down the slope toward the village. Before they were halfway there, he could see the Siraketans stopping, turning to stare at the mighty procession coming toward them.

His excitement grew, and he searched the faces in the crowd as it gathered for those his host knew by name.

He stopped at the outskirts of the village and nodded at Xosher, who had been his friend and helped with the digging in the temple.

The Jaffa put a staff weapon, black and gold to match his armor, into Anubis’ hand.

Then he marched ahead a few paces and shouted out to the villagers, “Behold the glory of Anubis! The god of death has come for you all.”

_**No! Stop! Don’t kill them. Please, Anubis. They’ve done nothing. Let them live, and they’ll worship you. I promise, just-- **_

Anubis ignored the sniveling plea of his host echoing in his mind, and pulled the trigger.

Xosher’s smoking body flew backward through the air amid a chorus of screams.

Villagers began to run, but Anubis was quick and took out many of them himself. It was fun, and with a word, his father and his queen joined him in the entertainment until none were left standing.

He wandered through the village, turning over bodies here and there, recalling them by name to torture his host.

One of them yielded a small surprise that took only a moment to dispatch, crushing the tiny skull with the sole of his boot.

And then he gathered up his goddesses and his army and strolled placidly back to the temple, ready to return to his ship for a bath and a rousing afternoon in bed with his queen.

 

* * *

 

Ysmin stood in the trees, staring at the remains of the Siraketan village. Bodies littered the ground, bodies of those who had been her friends for the past many months she had lived there. She had been gathering cooking herbs in the woods when the Jaffa soldiers came, and from her hidden vantage point, she _saw_ who commanded their army.

Her mistress had been powerless to stop the Goa’uld. She had seen in Reyenne’s eyes how hurt, how broken she was, knowing that she could do nothing.

Ysmin had to save her, if that was even possible now.

Her only recourse was the Tau’ri, and patience. After a few days, the Jaffa abandoned the village, believing there were no Siraketans in the vicinity who might threaten the temple. Only a few guards were posted in the tunnels, and they grew lax at their posts as time passed.

She watched, and she waited, and eventually her patience was rewarded.

Stealing up to the ‘gate, she switched on the MALP as she had seen Doctor Jackson do so many times, programmed in the proper address, and waited for the transmission to begin.

She requested asylum through the unit, and passed through the Stargate before the Jaffa took notice.

General Hammond greeted her from the observation booth above the ‘gate room.

She bowed, struggling to maintain her reserve. “I am Ysmin _, lotaur_ to the Tok’ra Kirin,” she announced. “I come from Siraket with grave news.”

“Someone will bring you to the briefing room, Ysmin,” Hammond told her. “I’ll be assembling my staff to hear your report shortly. Meanwhile, please let us know what we can do to make you comfortable.”

Ysmin nodded and fell into step with the armed soldiers standing at the end of the ramp.

Minutes later, she sat at one end of a long table, a glass of water sitting in front of her, half empty. She didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not when there was still so much she didn’t know.

The Tau’ri returned shortly, accompanied by a blonde woman, another bald man whom she recognized as Tok’ra, a tall man with gray hair, and a very large Jaffa. Introductions went around the table, but none of the names were important. Upon the General’s invitation to speak, Ysmin stood and began.

“The Tok’ra knew this was an important temple, because it was so new, so fresh. The Siraketans are nomads, and so had not been to that place before we found it.” She sighed and hung her head. “ _Reyenne_ found it, my mistress. She discovered the location on another world, called Shoshan, where she was born two hundred years ago.”

Jacob spoke up. “Reyenne, the archaeologist assigned to the temple on Siraket, was our expert on Anubis.”

“She is very good at what she does,” Ysmin clarified. “She knew _everything_ about Anubis.” She shot a look at Jacob, and lowered her eyes to the tabletop. “And when she was certain he would return to Siraket, she told the Tok’ra immediately.”

Ysmin took a deep breath, remembering. “For two days I could not find Reyenne or your Doctor Jackson. I had thought they might have gone off to be alone… because they had become lovers.”

O’Neill and Carter exchanged glances. The General made a note on his paper. Even Jacob was silent.

“But I found out where they went when the Goa’uld came to destroy the Siraketan village.”

All eyes turned to her.

Ysmin swallowed hard. She tried to calm herself, because what was done could not be undone. But she couldn’t look at them when she told them. Her eyes filled with tears. Her voice shook.

“I watched the Jaffa army come out of the mouth of the temple, swarming like insects over the village. Everyone was killed, even the infants. No one was spared, except those like me who hid themselves and could not be found. I saw who commanded the army. I saw the light in his eyes, and knew by his battle dress that he was the Goa’uld, Anubis.”

She stopped, and gathered herself, her gaze aimed at the table. Her heart rose up in her throat, and her voice came out in a wail. “And he was in the body of the one called Daniel Jackson.”

Carter and O’Neill pushed violently back from the table and stood up.

“No!” the blonde woman cried. “I don’t believe it! I _won’t_ believe it! Daniel would _never_ —“

“Daniel Jackson would not have had a choice,” the Jaffa called Teal’c reminded them calmly. “Especially if he were trying to protect the woman he loved.”

O’Neill stood by the slanted windows above the room with the Stargate. His hands pressed against the glass and his face was turned away. His whole body was trembling.

“Oh, God,” he whispered brokenly. “Oh, God. Not that. Not _him_.”

Ysmin turned distraught eyes on the General, who stared right back at her.

“You’re sure of this, ma’am?”

She nodded. It took her a moment to control her voice again. “I am. And he had Osiris and my mistress with him on each side.”

Jacob leaned on the table and buried his face in his arms. He shoulders shook, but his hands were curled up into white-knuckled fists.

Hammond’s gaze was intense. “Did your mistress -- what was her name?”

“Reyenne.”

“Did she appear to be a prisoner, or working with Anubis?”

Ysmin lifted her chin proudly. “I believe that she has fooled him into thinking that she is Goa’uld. As long as he believes that, she is safe. But we can waste no time, Tau’ri. We must rescue her before he discovers she is Tok’ra.”

“The host’s memories are instantly absorbed by the symbiote,” Carter argued softly. “Anubis would know from the moment of possession.”

“Unless Daniel didn’t know,” Jacob added. “Reyenne may not have told him. Kirin was… shy… for a Tok’ra.”

“Daniel’s good at figuring things out,” Carter countered. She sniffed and wiped away a tear. “And after having lived with her for the last couple of months – and been intimate with her – he’d have _known_. I’d bet money on it.”

“He wouldn’t give that knowledge up,” O’Neill whispered from the back of the room. He turned to face the group and returned to stand beside his chair, but didn’t resume his seat. “Anubis would have to wipe out Daniel’s entire consciousness before he’d would give him that secret. I _know_ it.”

“I agree,” said the Jaffa. He turned his enigmatic dark eyes on their visitor. “If Anubis were treating her as Goa’uld, then he did not know Reyenne was Tok’ra. Daniel Jackson has kept it from him.” He glanced at O’Neill. “And we must find a way to save them both. We cannot let Anubis remain in control of Daniel Jackson’s body.”

O’Neill shot a hard look at Jacob. “Tell the Tok’ra we’ll expect help on this one,” he ordered. “If you can get that thing out of him, you’ll do it. Otherwise, we’re dialing up Cimmeria as soon as we have him, and walking him through Thor’s Hammer.” He turned General Hammond. “And sir, I’d be grateful if you’d contact the Asgard and tell ‘em they damn well better have it fixed by the time we get there.”

The General’s eyes were blazing as he nodded assent. “You’re damn right, I will. We are _not_ losing Doctor Jackson to the Goa’uld.”

He threw his pen down on the table. “Colonel O’Neill, this is your operation. You get together as many men as you need. Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

O’Neill turned back to Ysmin. “We need to know the lay of the land, ma’am, so I’ll expect you to be able to draw maps and tell us where everybody was the last time you saw ‘em, approximate numbers, anything we can use to save our people. Can you do that?”

Ysmin straightened in her chair, relief flooding through her, hope turning her bones to steel. “Yes, sir. There are not many Jaffa left on Siraket, but the mother-ship was still in place and they are aboard it.”

“We may not have much time to get the job done, then,” he stated stiffly. “But I’ll be _damned_ if Daniel gets left behind _again_.”

Hammond’s voice was quiet, with a thread of grief running through it. “There may be no good options to this mission, Colonel.”

Ysmin understood what that meant. If they could not get the Goa’uld out of their friend, he would likely be killed. They were already grieving a little.

“I’m aware of that, General,” O’Neill shot back. “And I’m prepared to do what has to be done. Anubis won’t get away. I promise you that.”

Ysmin saw the gleam in his intense brown eyes, and knew he was a man of his word. She knew that these people would do everything possible to save her mistress and the Tau’ri man. And that was all she could ask of them.

After giving a full report of what she had seen, she returned to the Tok’ra and prayed that the Tau’ri would be successful in their mission.

And if not, she would gather Reyenne’s things and try to figure out who should have them after her death.

 

* * *

 

**Siraket**

Anubis nuzzled the bare shoulder on the pillow beside him, his arm around Qetesh’s waist. He nibbled her flesh, lightly grazing his teeth over her skin. They had been in bed for hours, indulging in sensual delights, and he had finally made her laugh.

That touched him, made him want her love more than ever.

He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down into her beautiful amber eyes. _“My dove,”_ he sighed _. “My sweet Qetesh.”_

The warmth that had been there a moment ago turned icy cold. _“My lord,”_ she responded automatically.

He wanted her to care. _“Do you not find this body pleasing, my love?”_ he asked her, tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingers _. “He was your slave, before I took him. He worshipped you. I saw this in his mind. And you were pleased with him. Can you not be pleased with me?”_

She glanced away. _“I serve you, my lord. Is that not enough?”_

Taking her chin in hand, he turned her back to face him.

 _“I want your heart, Qetesh. I want to seed you, when you are ready to spawn.”_ He hesitated.

He should not even suggest it, but need drove him to speak. _“And afterward, when our young are born…”_

He moved his hand down the column of her throat, between her breasts, bringing it to a stop as his palm splayed over her belly. _“I would seed your host body with mine.”_

Her eyes widened.

“ _Love me, Qetesh,_ ” Anubis pleaded softly. _“Give me your heart. Deny me nothing, even that which is most forbidden.”_

Alarm flared in her eyes. She rolled off the bed, out from beneath the covers and stood naked in the lamplight, staring back at him in horror.

 _“How can you even ask—“_ She turned and grabbed her robe, wrapping it around herself as she trembled, her breath hitching with unshed sobs.

Anubis sat up. His eyes grew round as another of his host’s memories slid into his grasp.

 _**No!**_ Daniel cried in the silence of his mind. ** _Don’t go there! Don’t look—You can’t—**_

But the host’s mind had been caught off-guard, and Anubis saw. _  
_

_**Oh, God. Anubis, you son of a bitch! I’ll kill you one day. I’ll find a way, and I’ll kill you.**_

The Goa’uld stared at the woman. He wiped at his face, at the tears rolling unbidden down his cheeks – his _host’s_ tears, not his own. _“You are Tok’ra!”_

He heard the note of wonder in his own voice.

Reyenne bolted, but he grabbed her and twisted her arm up behind her back until she yelped with pain.

He chuckled. “ _I have the perfect use for you, my sweet betrayer.”_

Anubis turned toward the door and shouted for his guards. “ _Take this—“_ He flung her at the Jaffa with one hand. _“—and put her in a cell. She is no longer to be trusted. She is Tok’ra.”_

The Jaffa warriors sneered at her evilly, and carted her away.

Anubis knew exactly what to do with her, but he was weary after all the exertion in bed.

The Tok’ra would wait, and the longer, the better.

Let her steep in her fear, because it would make his vengeance all the more sweet when it came.

 

* * *

 

_**The Sixth Day** _

“You sure you’re ready for this?” General Hammond asked from the booth above the embarkation room.

Jack strode up to the head of the group near the ramp and glanced upstairs. “Doc Frasier cleared me already, sir,” he growled. “And for this one, I’d go if I were on my deathbed.”

Hammond glared. “Keep a cool head, Colonel,” he advised. “You may have to make some tough decisions this time.”

O’Neill adjusted the strap on his P-90, his belly clenching as he remembered what Ysmin had told them.

_I saw who commanded the army. I saw the light in his eyes, and knew by his battle dress that he was the Goa’uld Anubis. And he was in the body of the one called Daniel Jackson._

Jack was probably going out to kill Daniel, if he could. _If_ Anubis didn’t kill him first.

He glanced at Carter, Teal’c and Logan, all of them already steeled to carry out their mission. The other troops were support to provide necessary firepower to try to save the Tok’ra archaeologist, but all of them knew this could be a suicide mission rather than a rescue.

“I know, General,” he returned gruffly. “And if we have to, I’ll pull the trigger myself. Daniel would expect that of me.” He took a deep breath, waited while the ‘gate dialed up, and when the wormhole opened, stepped through into the Siraketan night.

The troops emerged silently, swiftly, fanning out over the landscape and taking cover in the trees.

All eyes glanced up at some point, checking out the colored lights dancing in the sky, casting a soft glow over the still, silent landscape.

No Jaffa were in sight.

Jack pulled down his night vision goggles and scanned the mountain, spotting the mother-ship perched on the landing spike at the top of the ridge. That was where the bulk of the soldiers would be... but so would Daniel and his hostage.

If luck were with them, no one in the ship would have seen or heard the ‘gate activate.

They were going to have to figure out some kind of plan to get in, get the Tok’ra, and get out alive.

For that, they needed reconnaissance.

Teal’c responded to his nod to move forward and, dressed in his old Jaffa uniform, he headed for the campsite.

Moving openly in the village, he picked up small items here and there, then wandered around the remains of the burned-out tent farther up the slope.

Keeping the temple openings, he returned to the cover of the trees and handed a pair of journals to the Colonel.

“One is Daniel Jackson’s,” he reported. “The other must belong to the Tok’ra. They were hidden in their beds, beneath their pillows, and thus were protected from the fire.”

Jack tucked the books into his vest. “Thanks, Teal’c. Maybe they’ll come in handy later.”

“Shall I go into the temple and scout posting of guards?”

“No. Right now, we wait for dawn,” Jack told him. “Sun’s gonna be coming up in a little while, and I don’t want you gettin’ caught out in the daylight.”

He glanced upward at the alien lightshow above their heads.

“So we watch, and we wait, and we plan.”

He clapped Teal’c on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy.”

The Jaffa met his eyes and held his gaze for a long moment.

“Yeah, I know,” Jack whispered in response to the look. “This _is_ Daniel we’re talkin’ about. If he knows we’re here, he’ll know exactly what we’ll do.”

Teal’c bowed his head. There was only the merest flicker of emotion on his face, but Jack could see it plainly. He was already grieving for his lost friend, fully aware that he would never again be the Daniel Jackson he had worked beside for so many years.

There was no way to save him, except through death.

And as much as they hoped for and talked about other options, each of them knew there was only one.

Jack led the troops away from the village, deeper into the trees where they could camp safely for the night.

When everyone was settled, he pulled out Daniel’s journal, turned on his mini-Mag lite, and started looking through it for any useful information. The map of the temple passageways was a great find, and the notes after it showed what discoveries had been made during the past two months of research. He scanned over several pages and found a letter in the back, on the last two pages of the book.

It was addressed to him, and knowing it was the last time Daniel would speak to him as himself, he began to read.

Jack knew when he finished that Daniel would never have given him the letter.

He closed the book and slipped it back into his vest with a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes that were quickly blinked away. O’Neill already knew all those things, but had been trying desperately to ignore them. He wanted Daniel on the team, but more and more their missions had been follow-ups, without the necessity of using any of Daniel’s skills.

Jack had ignored the younger man’s complaints because he didn’t want to lose him, refused to talk about the situation because he couldn’t bear to tell him that he wanted him close for strictly personal reasons.

He loved Daniel like a brother... or a son. Daniel needed his guidance, and would take it better as orders than advice. But then...

Daniel was gone now, and something evil lived in his body.

They had parted on bad terms, following an argument about how things should be handled, and Daniel had been right. He was often right, and this time, someone died because Jack responded as he had been trained, instead of listening and letting Daniel do what he did best – make peace. And Daniel, bridling against Jack’s scorn, had carried his CO to safety on his own back.

Jack had never seen him again. He had never been able to apologize or explain, and over the course of the last few painful months, he’d had a lot of time to think about things.

Maybe they should be more patient and take time to explore like they used to, like Daniel wanted them to do.

Except that now Daniel wouldn’t be going with them to seek out new worlds, new people and potential allies in the war against the Goa’uld.

Because Daniel was one of _them_ , and now he would have to die. Anubis would know what they intended, and would never let them capture him.

Jack waited for the pain in his chest to subside, but it wasn’t going away. It had been there since that devastating announcement that his young friend had unwillingly joined the other side, and nothing but time would help. Jack knew that. But he had a job to do, and could not allow emotion to cloud his thinking.

He rested his hand over the journal resting against his heart, and did his best to keep things in perspective.

 _Do it the military way,_ he thought.

But this time, he couldn’t help wishing he had Daniel there to suggest another option.

 

* * *

 

_**The Seventh Day** _

Anubis swept into the room with great pomp, posing before the barred door of the cell.

 _“I shall miss your sexual prowess, Reyenne,”_ he admitted frankly _. “Would you enjoy another hour in my bed before I... Well, you need not know what I have planned for you. It would spoil the mood.”_

He chuckled, amused by her torment.

The Tok’ra remained sitting on her bunk and ignored him.

His smile vanished. He eased up to the bars and purred softly _. “Did you know that he loved you?”_

Her gaze flew up to his face, and she reacted with surprise. Then hatred slid into her eyes, and she faced the wall instead. “You _lie!_ ”

 _“I could tell you many things to bend you to my will,”_ Anubis murmured, _“but I know this to be true. I have seen it in his heart, felt how it pained him when I took you to my bed. And nothing I say to you could wound you more deeply than the truth.”_

He smirked. _“Daniel Jackson loved you, Reyenne, but he could not tell you because you were Tok’ra.”_

She rose and came to the bars, hope gleaming in her eyes. “No. He made peace with himself over that. He appreciated both of us equally. I _know_ it.”

Anubis snatched her by the wrist, squeezing until he felt the bones shift and saw her writhe in pain.

_**Let her go, you son of a bitch!**_

The thought was clear in his mind, and he chuckled. _“Even now, he seeks to protect you from me.”_

He unlocked the door and hauled her out, switching his grip from her wrist to her hair. _“You survived the death of my queen, Reyenne. But I can just as easily make you mine once more.”_

He flung her to the floor, just as Osiris stepped into the room. _“You sent for me, my lord Anubis?”_ She nudged the Tok’ra with the toe of her gilded sandal _. “I see you choose to play with your victim before you kill her.”_

Anubis chuckled. _“I do not intend to kill the host, sweet Osiris. I called, that you may enjoy the death of a Tok’ra. Come.”_

He bent to grab another handful of Reyenne’s hair, and hauled her to her feet with it. She screamed.

Osiris smiled. He led them to an anteroom near his private chambers, and from a beautifully decorated vat, he pulled a young symbiote, just at the proper age for implantation. Placing it carefully into a small pot already filled with water, he handed the bowl to Osiris and led the way to the ring room where a trio of Jaffa warriors were waiting for them.

Both Reyenne and Osiris had seen a demonstration of his intentions with Kali, and as realization dawned, Reyenne began to scream and struggle, kicking at him as he hauled her into the circle. “No! You will _not_ make me host to another Goa’uld! Not again, Anubis. I will die first!”

Anubis set the coordinates and stepped into the circle. _“Though I have no queens among my children with Bastet, I have no doubt that whichever one I have chosen will accommodate my pleasure. And this host knows what I like.”_

He chuckled darkly and touched the jewel that activated the transporter.

In an instant the group stood inside the Storehouse.

Anubis avoided stepping on the pattern carved into the floor as he headed for the pedestal.

Osiris set the pot on a ledge with a variety of other artifacts on display and then moved into a far corner, glancing around the room that had no doors or windows, only solid, impenetrable walls.

 _“How does one get in?”_ she asked, _“or out, without the aid of the rings?”_

 _“ One_ _cannot get in,”_ he answered. “ _Only four may do so, each standing in the rooms outside. It took me many years to discover that trick. The Ancients hid this room well.”_

 _“What did you find here, my son?”_ Osiris glanced at the objects that were so neatly displayed all around her. _“There must be some reason you come back to it, when you have already taken what is most valuable.”_

 _“It is also a gateway to...”_ He smiled at her and cocked his head. Best not to give away too much, even to one he trusted. _“Another place. One that cannot be reached by any other means. And it is here that the Hidden One shall be born.”_

Her eyes lit up, but she said nothing.

Anubis eyed his captive, now looking about her at the items arranged along the walls. He could see her thinking, hoping that one of them would prove to be a weapon she could use against him, but he had already taken those away.

The only thing he had left behind was his most recent prize, and she knew she was not strong or fast enough to wrest it from him.

There was no escape from her doom, and Reyenne/Kirin knew it.

The Hammer was a powerful weapon, if unwieldy. He had made a stipulation to the Shoshan scientists who had adapted it for him from the original device that the user should be protected from its effects. Much smaller than the original model, it was completely portable and worked perfectly. He’d seen it demonstrated and knew it worked, but had wielded it himself only once, against Kali.

Osiris had seen his power, and now understood his plan. He suspected she even approved of it, but he would not trust her with this weapon, lest she turn it on him. That was why he kept it in this chamber and not aboard his ship.

Anubis savored the Tok’ra’s fear. _“Now I understand why you disappeared after I sent you to find Thor’s Hammer. I knew no Goa’uld or Jaffa ever returned from Cimmeria, but did not know what manner of weapon the Asgard kept there. With this adaptation of it, I will have my revenge upon the usurper who has taken her place.”_

He touched the weapon fondly, picturing how he would take control of the System Lords. It was an ingenious plan, something no ordinary Goa’uld would never consider. He had learned much during his convalescence – the value of patience, deception and cunning as weapons, rather than making a great show of absolute power.

Lord Yu had done him a favor all those centuries ago, by weakening him so that he was barely alive. The experience had opened his eyes, changed him into something more, something greater than any Goa’uld before him. And soon enough, he would demonstrate to those who thought they were his peers exactly what those new tools could achieve.

The first to witness his glory was Osiris herself… his own father, now in a female host.

 _There is delicious irony in that_ , he thought.

 _“Ready the young one, father,”_ he called to her, pure evil seething through his veins as he grinned at Reyenne. _“She will soon have a new host -- the body of the goddess, Qetesh. And the System Lords shall follow in her footsteps, with my children replacing the Goa’uld they now carry. Those who serve them will be none the wiser, but the rule of the universe will be mine, and none shall stand against us.”_

Reyenne gasped and shuddered. There was nowhere to run, no chance to escape. _“No, please!”_ Kirin begged. _“Do not kill me!”_ She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. _“Oh, Daniel, if you can hear me, help us!”  
_

_“Daniel cannot help you, Reyenne. I am far too strong, and he is weak. He has always been weak.”_ Anubis’s voice was a harsh growl filled with contempt.

He motioned the Jaffa to the corners of the room, then slipped his hand into the cuff behind the shield and lifted it carefully. It was heavy, and the long tube was difficult to hold up and aim with all that weight in the front.

He glanced around for something to balance it on and positioned it on the pedestal.

Resting the tube on the stone, he stepped around it and started to insert his hand again.

_**She’s your daughter, Anubis. Yours and Egeria’s.**_

Daniel’s thought brought the Goa’uld to a halt.

For eons Anubis had wondered what happened to the children he had spawned, what Egeria had done with them when she fled the haven they’d shared as lovers. Could his host be speaking the truth? Or was this just another ploy for mercy?

_**Kirin is the child of Egeria. That’s who the Tok’ra are – all of them are the seeds of your love for Egeria. Spare her. Please.**_

Anubis hesitated. He studied Reyenne while he searched through Daniel’s mind for evidence of truth or falsehood. A brief memory of the revelation in the conference room at Stargate headquarters confirmed the fact as true.

There was a moment’s sadness in his heart as he remembered his forbidden love for Ra’s daughter/queen.

In the end, it made no difference.

The Tok’ra were his enemies, enemies of all the Goa’uld who would rule as gods.

And regardless of who they were to him, they had to be destroyed… along with everyone else who stood in his way.

He reached for the weapon, and smiled.

The sound of stone grinding on stone made him turn as the wall behind him shifted on its axis, pivoting open to the room beyond. A fraction of a second later, the other three walls began to move as well.

Recognition of the familiar face in the next room registered immediately, and he turned to his guards.

 _“Seize her!”_ he ordered, pointing at Reyenne.

Jack let go of his P-90 and pulled a zat instead, firing at the face he knew with the alien voice.

Anubis went down, and in that split second of confusion, Osiris sent herself back to the ship with the rings.

Sam, Teal’c and Logan fired on the Jaffa guards, who shot back with their own weapons.

Jack trusted his team to do their jobs, keeping his zat trained on the man on the floor.

Anubis’ eyes glowed for a moment, and then, in Daniel’s familiar voice, he pleaded, “Oh, God, kill me, Jack! Now, while you can. Please! I can’t fight Anubis any more. He’s too strong. Kill me, please. You can’t let that snake destroy—“

He groaned and twitched, obviously in pain.

“Destroy what, Daniel?” Jack edged a step closer, not sure how long the snake would remain stunned.

“Everything!” Daniel cried, a tear squeezing out the corner of one eye. “Humanity, the Asgard, the Nox... He has plans for all of them. Please, Jack, just do it! Just shoot me now—“

His body bucked, his teeth clenched as he fought for dominance.

“Daniel!” Jack whispered, staring with horror as those blue eyes lit up again.

Reyenne fell to her knees at Daniel’s side.

The last of the Jaffa guards fell to the floor and an instant later, Anubis caught Reyenne around the waist, pulled a knife from his belt and held it to her throat.

 _“Make a move for your weapons, and this Tok’ra dies!”_ the symbiote declared.

He struggled to get to his feet without using his hands and still hang onto his hostage.

“Let her go,” Jack demanded. He glanced at the woman to make sure she was okay, and saw her gaze shift to the device lying just in front of him on a pedestal. He didn’t have a clue what it was, but that gesture meant it was important.

“Thor’s Ham—“ she began, her voice cut off by the tip of the knife slightly piercing her skin in warning.

It was enough.

_Got it in one._

Jack reached for it, slipping his hand into the open end.

“Teal’c, move outta the way!” he yelled, keeping his eyes on his target.

Reyenne nodded, begging him to use it with her eyes, and then squeezed them tightly shut.

“Daniel,” she whispered. “Forgive me.”

Anubis scrabbled to reach his wrist and activate the jewel in his cuff, but Jack found the Hammer’s trigger first.

Red lightning shot out the other end of the thing, catching both man and woman in the beam. They screamed at the same moment, both their bodies stiffening and jerking as the current poured into them. They jiggled and danced as their muscles lost control. The knife clattered to the floor.

“How long do I keep this thing on?” Jack demanded of Sam, glancing at her over his shoulder.

“I don’t know, sir.”

He couldn’t take the screaming any more and let go of the trigger, but the energy continued to pour out the end of the machine for another few seconds.

Jack forced himself to watch, knowing that the machine was getting rid of the aliens inside them. He pictured it in his mind, frying the symbiote from the inside out, the creatures’ nervous systems so interconnected with the humans’ that all the pain of that horrible death would be transferred to their hosts until the aliens were gone.

And one of them was a Tok’ra.

Jack stepped back, his palms sweating, his stomach clenching. _He_ was doing that to Daniel – _to Daniel_ – tearing him apart from the inside out. He whirled around and vomited on the stone floor.

One of the Jaffa regained consciousness and fired at Jack, hitting the Hammer instead.

Teal’c shot him again and he lay still, but the machine sparked, sputtered, smoked, and finally died.

Jack saw it all, and hoped it had done its job… and wondered if he was going to have to kill Daniel anyway.

“Go check on ‘em,” O’Neill growled at Carter.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and struggled to compose himself, avoiding looking in Daniel’s direction.

Jack busied himself checking all of the Jaffa guards to make sure they were dead or restrained while Carter and Logan checked Daniel and the woman. Then he glanced upward and crossed himself, praying briefly for them both to be alive.

He hadn’t done that since… Charlie.

This warranted a little help from the ManUpstairs.

Jack strolled over to the little group and squatted down beside them, with Teal’c standing guard over the Jaffa.

That was definitely _Daniel_ looking back at him out of those eyes, silently thanking him.

Daniel turned to the woman lying half across him. “Reyenne,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. “Reyenne, honey, I’m here.”

The woman’s amber eyes were open and staring. Jack lifted her gently off him, and tried to sit her upright, but her head lolled to the side and her body had all the tension of a rag doll. He pressed his fingertips to her throat, hoping to find a pulse, but there was none.

Jack sat down and gathered the woman into his lap, waiting until Sam had helped Daniel into a sitting position. He studied the woman’s sweet face, then regarded his friend in sorrow. “She’s gone, Daniel.”

Daniel crumbled in Sam’s arms, anguished sobs torn from his damaged throat.

“C’mon,” Jack ordered gently. “We need to get the heck outta Dodge before Osiris comes back with an army.”

He glanced down at the body in his arms and considered leaving it behind for a moment. Then he closed her eyes, stood up, scooped his arms beneath her and lifted her, nodding to Teal’c to help Sam with Daniel.

“Can’t leave this place,” Daniel whispered when they hauled him to his feet. He sniffed, heedless of the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Storehouse of the Ancients.”

He gestured around himself, and a moment later, the earth rumbled above them as the mother-ship took off under Osiris’ command.

“I guess we don’t have to, now,” Jack agreed, squinting up at the ceiling. “Looks like she’s handing it over to us.” He eyed Daniel, felt the weight of the body in his arms, and headed out the door, calling his troops together to mop up and make camp.

The SGC was staying on Siraket.

 

* * *

 

Jack supported Daniel as the other man stumbled down the ramp into the ‘gate room.

“Medic!” O’Neill called, and General Hammond issued the summons over the PA system.

The Colonel carefully eased his burden down to the floor into a sitting position next to the ramp.

Daniel slumped down into a heap on the floor, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were blank, and that scared Jack.

They had left the woman’s body back on the planet along with the rest of the rescue party, with Carter in charge as they set up camp. Soon enough he’d be going back with additional troops, but not until Daniel was secured.

That thought rankled, but he knew it was necessary.

Doctor Frasier was first into the room, and rushed right to Daniel’s side with a couple of her nurses bearing a stretcher. “What happened?” she demanded, not looking up at Jack as she started her exam.

“Anubis,” Jack stated succinctly, nodding at the jackal logo on the other man’s clothes. “He was… _in_ Daniel. I think I killed it, but you should probably check to make sure. Security precautions and all.” He swallowed hard, his stomach tight. “Is he okay?”

Janet spared a worried glance up at his face as Daniel was loaded onto the stretcher. “I don’t know, Colonel. I’ll have to get back to you on that after we run some tests.”

She turned to watch the patient being carried away, then faced O’Neill again. “You’re _sure_ it was Anubis?”

Jack nodded, unable to say it again out loud.

“Dear God,” she breathed, her brown eyes devastated. She followed her patient out the door, and Jack went up to the control room to report to the General.

“Did I hear you correctly, Colonel?” Hammond asked, once they had shut themselves up in his office.

“That Daniel was host to Anubis? Yes, sir.” Jack tried valiantly to pull his emotions back, to be professional, but his voice deepened and threatened to crack. “I can’t—“

He turned his back to the desk and put his head down, gripping the headrest on a chair till his fingers turned white.

“We need to send a contingent of troops back to that planet and set up a secure post. There’s something there that Anubis wanted badly, and we need to keep the rest of the Goa’uld from getting it. I’m sure they’ll be back.”

He described the mission in detail, leaving out a few personal details that Hammond didn’t need to know about, and told him what Daniel had said about the place.

“Storehouse of the Ancients, eh?” Hammond mused thoughtfully. “Sounds like it could be a great find. I’ll authorize the use of SG units one through four to secure the site, plus thirteen and fourteen to back you up. You’ll be in charge of the operation—“

“Begging the General’s indulgence, sir,” Jack returned, “I’d like to wait on that.  Carter, Teal’c and I need to be here for Daniel. Major Phillips should be able to handle the encampment, and some of the other eggheads can proceed with study of the site. Till Daniel recovers, that is.  Then we’ll head back to Siraket and take it from there, with your permission, sir.”

Hammond eyed him. “You’ll need to take into account the possibility that… we may not get Doctor Jackson back, Colonel. Doctor Frasier will need to assess his physical condition, but being host to a Goa’uld as notorious as Anubis… the damage done to him may be—“

“He’ll _make_ it,” Jack assured him passionately. “He _has_ to.”

The two men locked eyes. Hammond nodded. “Very well, Colonel. I’ll send Major Phillips in temporarily, with the understanding that you’ll relieve him once Doctor Jackson’s condition is more firmly established.” He sat down at his desk to begin writing up the orders. “Dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jack pivoted on his heel and headed straight for the infirmary. A nurse directed him to the isolation room viewing area, and he watched as Doctor Frasier’s team stripped off Daniel’s clothes and redressed him in a hospital gown. Janet continued with the exam while her team worked on the patient, and she called out for medications, blood draws and a series of tests, while Daniel lay on the table, completely unresponsive except for the regular blinking of his eyes.

Jack saw a tear seep from the corner of Daniel’s left eye and knew the man was conscious, which was a relief, but not much of one. A sedative was administered and those baby blues closed. Moments later the gurney was wheeled into the imaging room for a complete body scan.

O’Neill paced outside until he had a look at the pictures himself, heaving a sigh of relief that the symbiote was gone. There was some internal damage from the creature’s tortured writhing that would need time to heal, but otherwise Daniel was in good health.

Janet explained in detail when all the tests were done, and smiled as she gave Jack the prognosis. “He’ll be fine, Colonel. He just needs some time to recover, and a lot of rest.”

O’Neill hugged her. “Thanks, Doc.” He patted her shoulder as he let her go. “Can I see him now?”

“Of course, but he’s sleeping.”

“That’s okay. Not gonna bother him. I just need to be with him for a little while.”

Jack stepped into the room, lights dimmed to facilitate rest except in the nurse’s station in the back of the isolation room.

He dragged up a stool and just sat by the bed for a long time, watching Daniel breathe, his face peaceful in sleep.

“I’m here, Daniel,” he said softly, and put his hand on the man’s bare arm. “I’ll always be here for you.”

But a tiny voice in Jack’s heart reminded him that he _hadn’t_ been there when it really counted.

 

* * *

**November 1**

Sam kicked gently on the door, carrying several bags of chips in her arms which threatened to slip out of her grasp or be crushed into powder as she tried desperately to hold onto them. Shannon Murphy opened it and relieved her of several of the bags. “You’re last to arrive, so next time’s at your place,” the redhead informed her gaily.

“That’s cool with me,” Sam assured her, and took the rest of the bags into the living room. Music was playing softly in the background accompanied by the tinkle of falling water from several fountains in the room. “Hey, guys,” she greeted the others breathlessly.

Everyone in the room glared back at her in false ire.

“No guys allowed,” Logan reminded her with a wink. “Just us chicks, and what’s the hold-up, Carter? You’re half an hour behind everybody else. This monthly meeting was about to go into next week.”

Sam shook her head, grinning back. “Okay, look, I know this gal’s club thing was my idea, but gimme a break, okay? I was in the infirmary, visiting Daniel.”

Silence fell as every eye looked soberly up at her. “How’s he doing?” Shannon asked, pushing an iced soft drink into her hand. “He’s still not taking visitors, except for his teammates.”

She shot an accusing look at Janet Frasier, sitting on the floor with her shoes off, crunching on a carrot stick.

“And the good doctor, there, isn’t talking.” She stuck her tongue out at the aforementioned woman when she looked guiltily up from the veggie tray.

“He’s… okay, I guess,” Sam reported hesitantly. “Still not talking when we do go see him. Not even to the Colonel.”

Shannon eased up under Sam’s drink and hugged her. “We’re all thinking good thoughts for him,” she told her friend. “Let us know if there’s anything any of us can do to help.”

Sam felt like she’d never get out from under the sorrow she felt for what her teammate had been through. “I wish there were something somebody – anybody – could do to help him.” She smiled warmly at Janet. “His body’s pretty much okay now. The rest of his recovery is up to him. And that could take a long time. Maybe never. I… I hate to think what he saw…”

She couldn’t finish, and took a sip of the soda instead.

“Change of subject, shall we?” suggested Logan. “Shannon, what’s doing with the Teal’c project?”

Doctor Murphy held up one finger as if to speak, then abruptly left the room.

When she returned, she held a white notebook in her hand. “I’m beginning to wonder if he’s making all these up,” the redhead told the group with a smile. “There seems to be no end in sight to the fairy tales of the Jaffa.” She handed the notebook to Lieutenant Sandy Hailey, who opened it and began to look through the neatly printed pages.

“There must be a hundred stories here,” the younger woman observed with a note of pleased surprise.

“One hundred and six, to be exact,” Shannon corrected. “I’ve tried to divide them up into categories, but so many cross over, it’s hard to classify them as one thing or another. Kim, how are the illustrations coming?”

Lieutenant Satterfield reached under the coffee table and pulled out a cardboard portfolio. “If I get one done for each story, we’ll be lucky,” she answered. “But there are so many that are just such great tales, I’d like to do several. This could be quite a book when we’re finished. Teal’c’s going to love it!”

 _“If_ we finish it,” Logan teased, reaching for one of the bags of chips. “Our Jaffa friend is quite the storyteller, apparently.”

“Yes, he is,” Shannon agreed. She glanced at Sam, now moving into the circle of women seated on the floor around the coffee table. “And thanks to you, Major, for putting the bug in my ear to do this.”

“Oooh, isn’t that a disturbing thought,” Hailey shot back. “Imagine having somebody _actually_ put a bug—“

“Let’s just _not_ go there, shall we?” Logan suggested with a tense smile. “Our last mission was glad-handing – and I use that term loosely – an alien race that looked so much like giant praying mantises we all got a serious case of the creeps.”

The group poured over the developing book of Jaffa tales, offering suggestions for format and production. Conversation gradually moved around to the books everyone was reading – except for Logan, who was a conscientious objector to romance novels – and from there to men.

Sam enjoyed the laughter and camaraderie of this group, and was instrumental in keeping all the women of SGC comfortable with each other, bonded together in case another Hathor incident took place. The female population had grown astronomically over the last several years, partly due to her frequent hints to General Hammond, and partly by virtue of the fact that there were qualified women out there getting the attention of department heads. She and Daniel had discussed the subject often and he agreed with her; consequently, he had specifically looked for talented females among the academic candidates to bolster their ranks.

And he hadn’t been sorry. Of all the replacements coming up through the orientation classes, the women seemed to “get it” quicker and be more serious about making a difference.

Logan had privately confided that she thought that was because women had a much deeper fear of having their bodies invaded than men did, and recognized the threat of the Goa’uld without needing it hammered home.

But now it had happened to someone close to her, someone she loved, and Sam was at a loss how to cope with that.

She waited until the fun had passed and things were starting to wrap up before broaching the subject foremost on her mind with these intelligent, strong women.

Shannon was on her way back from the kitchen with more soda, and Sam waited until Murphy had resumed her place on the sofa behind her before speaking.

“Okay, gals, time for something depressing. Grab your tissues and hold hands if you need to, because the ride’s about to get bumpy.”

“What’s up, Sam?” asked Haley.

She shifted in her seat, backed up a little and lifted her knees, draping her arms around them. “I want to talk about rape.” She glanced at the floor, took a deep breath and waited for that to sink in. “It hasn’t happened to me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

A collective sigh of relief went around the room.

“I’m asking because it’s the only thing I can compare to what’s happened to Daniel,” she admitted. “I need to know how to help him deal, and I figure this is as close a comparison as I can get.”

“I agree,” said Janet softly. “The physical invasion of his body was bad enough. I can’t imagine what that was like for him—“

 _“That,_ I know about,” Sam shot back. “But it’s what came after, the difference in Tok’ra and Goa’uld mentalities. Anubis would have enjoyed forcing Daniel into submission. He’d have gotten off on torturing his mind. And I… I need… I’d like to know if anybody’s been there. If you can talk about it, and what you did to survive afterward.”

Sandy Hailey sat very still. She turned away from Sam’s face and spoke to the celery stick in her hand. “I was in college…” she began, her voice quiet and even.

Sam listened intently, trying to connect emotionally, to understand, both for Sandy’s sake and for Daniel’s. Hailey’s confession evolved into a support session that was both wrenching and uplifting. Sam had a whole new respect for Hailey afterward, seeing how far the young woman had come since that devastating, life-altering event in her life.

It was the wee hours of Sunday morning before the group finally broke up to go to their separate homes.

Sam had just put the key in the door of her house when she heard the familiar roar of a motorcycle pulling up into her driveway, and recognized Logan as she took off her helmet. Without a word, the older woman went with her into her house and sat down on the sofa, then got up and paced as Sam put away her keys and settled in.

When Logan started talking, Sam listened in silence, stunned by the tale the archaeologist told. She offered insights into what it was like to be held prisoner, to be psychologically tortured, and to fight for her life. She described in detail how to live one day at a time, what strength it took to conquer despair, and assured her that Daniel had that in him. And when she finished, she gave Carter a brief hug and walked out the door, reminding Sam to lock it behind her.

For a long time, Carter sat on her sofa, just staring at the cold, empty fireplace and thinking. She was at once horrified and comforted by what she had learned from her women friends, and more certain than ever that their informal organization was a great idea. Oddly enough, she had Hathor to thank for that, and even though she couldn’t – and wouldn’t – have actually done such a thing, it was one bit of good the Goa’uld had done for Stargate Command.

Sometimes, as Teal’c’s stories so often illustrated, evil digs deep in the soul and uncovers something amazing.

She went to bed with that in mind, and in time, fell into a deep and restful sleep.

 

* * *

 

**November 7**

Daniel lay on his infirmary bed, facing the wall. He closed his eyes when he heard the door open, unwilling to see any visitors, but footsteps brought the person closer. A stool was noisily dragged up to the bedside, and someone sat down.

“I know you’re not asleep, Daniel,” Jack murmured. “Why’n’tcha turn over and look at me while I talk to you this time?”

With a sigh, the young man complied, eyeing his guest over his shoulder.

“You haven’t said a word in nearly two weeks,” Jack reminded him. He glanced down at the folder in his hands and shook his head. “You put out some pretty awesome reports, though. I guess you’ve been makin’ up for not talkin’ by getting everything out on paper.”

Daniel’s lips pursed. He toyed with a piece of cuticle that had been torn loose somehow. He ripped it off and watched his finger bleed.

Jack sighed. He produced a vinyl-covered journal from beneath the folder and laid it on Daniel’s chest. “Okay, I know you’re pissed off at me for... well, for bein’ an ass for the last couple of years, and you’re justified in that.”

Daniel picked up the book, turned it right side up and opened the flap with a sigh, already knowing what he’d find inside.

“Yeah, I read the letter,” Jack admitted. “I thought you were lost forever.”

His eyes went to the pages as Daniel flipped through them, past the map and the notes to the diagram of the four empty rooms in the Siraketan temple. “That saved your bacon, Daniel. It showed me how to get into that room.”

Frowning at his visitor, Daniel glanced down at the diagram, then back at his visitor, a question in his eyes.

“Ask me. Go on, ask me,” Jack prompted with a grin.

Daniel remained silent, frowning at the drawing he’d made and its accompanying notes, obviously trying to figure it out for himself.

Jack pointed at the page. “It says, ‘four races, four rooms, four directions, four doors – four ways in.’ I took that to mean there had to be somebody in each room before the doors would open, and I was right! You gave me the answer, Daniel. Without that book, you’d still be...”

He didn’t say the name.

This wasn’t what O’Neill had intended when he came in. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was remind his friend what had been inside him. He hung his head and beat himself up some more in the confines of his mind, listening to more pages turning as Daniel hunted for the letter.

“It’s not in there,” Jack told him. “That’s basically SGC property, logged in and everything, but I figured you wouldn’t want that letter on record.”

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the folded papers. He opened it and looked at one of the passages.

_I love you, Jack. I thought I meant something to you, but apparently I’ve become a nuisance that you just want to be rid of. All you had to do was tell me. Our friendship was more important to me than working together, but I guess you don’t feel that way. You’re all about the job. Saving the world – that’s what you do best, and to hell with anybody who gets in your way. I seem to have done that a lot._

Jack cleared his throat. “You were right about some of it, wrong about others,” he began. “And since you’re not gonna help me by talking it out, I s’pose I’ll have to do it all by myself.” He nodded. “And that’s okay. You said I stopped listening to you, and you were right. But there’s a reason for that.”

He handed the letter back to its owner and made eye contact. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, had rehearsed it a hundred times over the last two weeks, while Daniel had been under observation in the infirmary. Still, it was hard. It was almost impossible to make the words come out his mouth. It just wasn’t in his nature to talk about his feelings, but the words needed to be said.

More importantly, Daniel needed to hear them.

“Truth is, Danny, I was afraid.” He dragged his eyes up to the other man’s troubled face and saw the confusion riding his heavy brows, dragging them down over his eyes.

Jack sat up straight, looking into those eyes no longer obscured by the familiar spectacles. “I can’t get over you not wearing glasses anymore.”

Daniel shot him a look that said, _Get on with it._

“Yeah, I know. I’m avoiding.” Jack sighed. His shoulders slumped. “You’re the best at what you do, Daniel. That’s why you’re on SG-1. I knew you were unhappy with the turn of events, the missions becoming more military and less exploratory.”

He glanced at the folder in his hand, felt the soft cloth cover of the other journal beneath it, and he sighed. “But I kept you on the team because I was afraid that, if you were reassigned somewhere else, the CO might get you killed. And I...”

His throat tightened up. His heart ached. “I couldn’t stand the thought of that. I had to keep you with _me_ , so I could look after you.” He swallowed hard. This time, he did not look away from his friend’s face. “That’s what families do. They keep close, and watch each other’s backs.”

Daniel’s eyes finally met his.

Jack fidgeted with the folder. “I’ve... I’ve got reassignment papers right here, if you want ‘em. All you have to do is sign ‘em and give ‘em to General Hammond, and you’ll go wherever you want. You can even ride a desk here, if that’s what tickles your fancy. Or go back to Siraket. I hear that’s turning into an extended work site for lotsa folks, Tok’ra and Tau’ri both. Plenty of archaeological stuff to do, and all that. Right up your alley.”

Daniel reached out for the folder and laid it on top of his journal, staring at it, his face impossible to read.

“You know I’m not good at this sort of thing,” Jack added. “But I swear to God, if that’s what you need to feel comfortable around me, I’ll learn. We can sit around and sip tea and knit doilies if you want. I just don’t want you to think that I don’t—“

The word stuck in his throat for a moment, but as he connected with those blue eyes, he let the rest of it come. “Don’t think for a minute that I don’t love you, Daniel. Because I –“

He reached out and grabbed Daniel’s hand, gave it a squeeze, pleading with his whole heart for forgiveness. “Jeez, I thought I was gonna die, watching you get Hammered on that planet… knowing _I_ was pulling the trigger.”

He got up, too distraught to sit still, running his free hand over his hair as the memories tore at him. Without seeing where he was going, he walked in a circle around the stool where he’d been sitting. Then he remembered what he had in his hand, and glanced at it. When he looked up again, Daniel was standing right in front of him.

His eyes were swimming in unshed tears, and he reached out, pulling Jack into a fierce embrace.

“Damn it, Daniel,” he whispered, feeling himself trembling as he hugged the other man back. “The shit you put me through! Honestly, you’re turnin’ my hair gray, makin’ me an old man.” His voice broke, but as much with joy as sorrow.

They held each other for a moment longer, then Jack pulled away a little. He wiped Daniel’s tears away with his thumbs and offered a tiny smile. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know.” He turned away and went to sit on the side of the bed, head drooping.

“Hey, you talked!” Jack was almost beside himself with joy at the response.

“Don’t make such a big deal out of it,” Daniel groused.

“It _is_ a big deal. It means you’re recovering, though I’m sure Doc Romani’s gonna want you to stay on the antidepressants for a while longer.”

“Yeah. I’ve got a lot... on my mind.” He paused, pulling a moue of distaste. “Doctor Romani’s okay. But I’m still not talking to McKenzie. _Ever.”_

Jack came to stand beside him and handed over the journal. “I thought you might like to have this. I looked at the first couple pages and, since it wasn’t written in English, I figured you’d be the best one to look after it.”

The look on Daniel’s face said he recognized it instantly as Reyenne’s private journal.

“And I didn’t log it into official paperwork, so nobody’s gonna come lookin’ for it later.”

It took him a minute to push the words out. “Thanks, Jack.”

Opening the book to the first few pages, he noted the script was something similar to Arabic – probably Shoshani writing. He’d have to work on translating it.

Flipping more pages, he noted the appearance of his name about halfway through the book, written in English, and after that some of the pages were decorated with sketches of him: close-ups of his face, one of him hunkered down inside the temple in his Boonie hat, working with his brushes to loosen some dirt on a stone tablet, and another of him from the back, bathing in the Siraketan ocean, with a beautiful design painted on his back.

The sketches were good – he hadn’t realized Reyenne was such an excellent artist – but as he went farther and farther back, the sketches became full-fledged portraits, rendered with love. She caught his expressions perfectly, including a rare smile and a wicked come-hither look with lustful intent in his eyes. She drew him in the throes of ecstasy, his head thrown back as he arched above her; or gazing up at her from his pillow, the picture of satisfaction.

There was even a portrait of him sleeping, as if she had peered around the wall of books between their beds to capture him at his most open and innocent.

His breath caught. He wiped at his eyes with a shaky hand, and turned the last page.

Reyenne was less kind with her self portrait, as she sat astride him the first time they had made love, and he was tempted to correct the flaws she had drawn in, but he wanted to keep the picture exactly as she had rendered it.

He stared at it for a long time, remembering, his breath hitching, threatening to turn into a sob.

He grimaced and closed the book quickly, holding it to his chest and bowing his head over it protectively.

Suddenly, Jack was there, standing between his knees, pulling him against his chest, surrounding him with the strength of his arms and his friendship.

Daniel swept his free hand around Jack’s waist and held on, desperately hanging onto his sanity by the barest thread.

“Let it out, Danny,” whispered Jack, rubbing his hand over his friend’s back in small, slow circles. “I’m here for you, buddy.”

“Oh, God!” Daniel wailed. “I never told her, Jack. I never told her how I felt.”

Jack stroked Daniel’s hair fondly, as he had once done with Charlie when his son was hurt or upset. He lightly kissed the top of the younger man’s head.

“I’ll bet she knew,” Jack murmured. “You’re pretty easy to read, and honest with your feelings.”

He sighed, wishing he had known the woman. “She knew, Daniel. You may not have said the words, but I’ll bet you told her in your own way every day.”

He remembered how quickly Reyenne had rushed to Daniel’s side when he’d been hit with the zat, how worried she had looked as she knelt over him. That was love in her eyes.

And when she’d told Jack about the Hammer, she _knew_ she’d be caught in it. She knew the Tok’ra inside her would die, but both of them had been willing to do whatever was necessary to save Daniel Jackson from Anubis.

She loved him, all right.

Jack suspected the woman had known there was a chance she might die. The autopsy report had finally come back from the Tok’ra that afternoon, and it raised a lot of questions. True to form, they weren’t very forthright with the answers.

Daniel nodded and sat up, reaching on a nearby table for some tissues. “I’ve been crying a lot lately,” he observed.

Jack said nothing. A quip about him always being a softie died on his lips, and he returned to his seat on the stool. “Daniel, about Reyenne…”

He looked up, tears gleaming on his eyelashes. “Yeah?”

“We can’t figure out what killed her.” He sighed and shook his head. “The Hammer’s supposed to just destroy the symbiote, but the… uh…”

He watched Daniel’s face for reaction, but it had to be done. Daniel would want to know.

“…the autopsy showed no signs of trauma at all. It didn’t hurt you, but somehow it killed her.”

Daniel looked down at the book against his chest. “I think I know why,” he said softly, and blew his nose. “She’d been through it before. Maybe you can’t use it twice.”

“Yeah. Ysmin told us about that. But there shouldn’t be any reason--”

The younger man drew a long breath and let it out very slowly. “Reyenne was born almost two hundred years ago, Jack. When she went through Thor’s Hammer on Cimmeria a few years ago, she found she couldn’t live as a single consciousness any more. So she offered herself up to the Tok’ra, leaving out the little detail of who she’d been once upon a time. Jack, she was _Qetesh_ , Anubis’s queen.”

Jack’s mouth dropped open.

“And I think that... when Kirin died, Reyenne just gave up. She knew she’d never be a host again.”

For a moment, Jack didn’t say anything. “But she knew you were worth saving. She was willing to die to save you. I think she knew what that device did and what it would do to her, but she wanted me to use it anyway. It was in her eyes.”

Daniel hugged the book to him, his shoulders shaking with grief. He bowed his head, curling himself over it.

“I believe you’re worth saving, too.” Jack reached out and put his hand on Daniel’s knee, patting him fondly.

Nodding, Daniel squeezed out a brief thanks and slid back beneath the sheet on his bed, still hugging the diary.

“You wanna rest now?”

“Yeah.”

“Think you might be ready to go home soon?”

Daniel shrugged and said nothing.

Jack rubbed his shoulder, and Daniel caught his hand with a brief squeeze before closing his eyes.

“I’ll be back,” Jack promised. “You get some sleep.”

He turned and left the room, thinking about what Daniel had told him.  The SGC had taken possession of the portable Hammer but discovered that it had been destroyed beyond repair by the Jaffa guard.

Unwieldy as it was, it might have been a powerful tool against the Goa’uld, but it would certainly give them something new to dissect and ponder over. If they could manage to reverse-engineer the technology from the remains, they might be able to manufacture weapons of their own to clean the Goa’uld’s plows.

Jack had always wanted the cool weaponry, but now it didn’t seem to matter nearly as much as his young friend did.

Some part of him knew that Daniel would never be quite right again, not after the blows Anubis had dealt him. It was a wonder he was in his right mind at all, and Jack couldn’t begin to imagine what all Daniel knew now, what memories of Anubis he shared.

O’Neill had done some reading during Daniel’s recovery, tracking down every piece of known history on that particular Goa’uld, and it was truly sickening.

Now he understood why the System Lords had cast him out of their circle and sent Lord Yu to kill him.

Daniel would have to live with those horrible memories… unless by some grace of Fate, his handful of days joined with the symbiote meant he hadn’t downloaded quite all of them.

Jack had been praying a lot of late, not so much because of a resurgence of religious faith, but more because, if there really were a God, Daniel needed as much favor as the Big Guy could give him.

He walked down the hallway as he crossed himself and said a couple of extra Hail Marys in his head, and then went to find the new shrink to ask what kind of signs he should look for that might indicate trouble ahead for Daniel.

_**On to Chapter 3: In Remembrance** _


	3. In Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel struggles to recover after the removal of Anubis... but isn't sure his demon is *really* gone.

**November 7**

Daniel sat on the bed, knees bent, journal open.  He hadn’t written a word, just sat stared at the blank page.  He was exhausted all the time now. Most of his days he spent working, except when Doctor Frasier prodded him to get up and hit the treadmill for some exercise, or sedated him so he’d sleep. 

What he needed was to get out of that room, to have a little stimulation for his mind so he’d have something else to think about besides the sorry state he was in, and the nightmarish memories still so fresh and raw. 

“Want some company?” 

He glanced up at the cheery voice and Sam’s bright smile, and gave her a nod.  She practically bounced into the room and pulled up a stool.  “I brought my portable chess set.  Wanna play?” 

Closing the book on his pen, he laid it aside with a sigh.  “Sure.” 

“Oooh, look who’s a motormouth!” she teased. 

“Stop it, Sam.  I’m not in the mood.” 

“Well, how are you going to _get_ in the mood if nobody cracks a joke?” she challenged him. 

The thin edge of irritation was tempered by the concern in her face. 

Daniel let it go. Sam was trying. He should, too. 

Grabbing the bed tray, she pulled it into place and started setting the pieces onto the board.  “You want to be white or black?” 

“Black suits me,” he growled, frowning.

Grief was threatening to surface again. Anger filled him up, seeped out his pores. He felt like he was drowning every moment of every day in a sea of emotions he could no longer control. 

“Cut it out, Daniel,” she ordered tenderly.  “C’mon.  You can at least try—“ 

He slapped the game board off the tray, and pieces went flying. 

For a moment, he just stared at the empty tray, aware that she was staring at him, aghast at his rude behavior.  Shame swirled around in his insides, a new stream flowing into his tempest.

“I’m sorry, Sam.  I’m sorry.”  He got up and started picking up the pieces.  “I’m still not myself, I guess.” 

“Daniel, I…” She eyed him pensively.  “I have some idea what you’ve been through, you know.  I wasn’t exactly prepared for being a host, either, so if you want to talk—“ 

“Jolinar was different, Sam,” he snapped. A grim little laugh slipped out. “You really have _no_ idea what I’ve been through.” 

“There are things I can help you with, though.  If you’ll let me.”  She came to him, hauled him upright by his arm and hugged him tightly. 

“Damn it, Daniel,” she admonished him with all the tenderness in her heart, “let us _help_ you!  Talk to us.  Please?” 

He missed her.  He missed _all_ of them, but something kept him at arm’s length from everyone, and it felt suspiciously like the ghost of Anubis.  He forced himself to put his arms around her, to let himself relax in her embrace, but there was a wall around his heart now, one he couldn’t break through. 

“I’ll be okay, Sam.  In time.” 

She patted his back with her hands and sniffed as she pulled away to make eye contact.  “I want things back the way they were,” she told him.  “Back when we first started working together.  When we were a team.” 

“We can’t go back in time, Sam.”  Daniel felt her tears soaking through his hospital scrubs, but they didn’t affect him as they once would have.  “Too much has happened that changed us all.  We have to be… who we are now, and grow with that.” 

“But we’re growing _apart_ , Daniel.  We’re losing each other, and it’s killing all of us.”  She gripped his upper arms, refusing to let go.  “I would die for you.  So would Teal’c.  So would the Colonel.” 

He felt a bitter smile tugging at his lips.

 _Not Jack,_ he argued in his head. _But Sam didn’t need to hear that. She knew it as well as he did, but a cut like that would make her hurt even more. He’d hurt enough people already._

“I know, Sam.  I know.  But maybe it’s time you all learned to live without me.” 

“I can’t believe you said that!” Sam pushed him a little and took a step backward.  “Don’t leave us, Daniel.  Please.  I can feel you pulling away, shutting yourself off from us and I _hate_ it! We _need_ you.”  She sniffed back more tears, and let him go to wipe her face.  “Hell, our _whole world_ needs you!  This is no time to quit.” 

He nodded. Part of him wanted desperately to stay, but he was different now. He wasn’t really someone she knew anymore.

“I know, Sam.  I haven’t really made a decision about whether to keep working here or not.  It’s still too early, but that’s my natural inclination.  The heart can only handle so much pain before it breaks too much to fix, and I think I’m way past that point.  I can’t feel _anything_ anymore.” 

That was a lie, a tender one to help her think he wasn’t in pain. From the moment Anubis had been killed, the only thing Daniel _could_ feel was pain, an anguish so vast it had swallowed up who he was entirely. He knew there would be no coming back from this.

Daniel Jackson was dead. The person inhabiting his body was still being written by the hand of agony in ink made of blood and tears. 

Her eyes were haunted, filled with worry and fear.  “Talk to Doctor Romani, Daniel. Please. I know he’s come to see you already. Let him help you.  Let him help _us.”_

Daniel turned away and continued to pick up the game pieces.  “He seems like a nice guy.  Don’t like the drugs he passes out like candy, though.” 

“If you didn’t need it, he wouldn’t prescribe it for you,” she reminded him gently, patting his shoulder. She squatted down to help.  “Just give him a chance.  Please?  For me?” 

He flexed a smile at her that he didn’t really feel.  “We’ll see.” 

Sam hugged him again when they stood up, her embrace warmer and gentler this time, less desperate.  She kissed his cheek and gave him a sad but hopeful smile.  “I love you, y’know.  In a… strictly sisterly way, I mean.” 

“Yeah.  I know, Sam.”  He kissed her forehead and patted her shoulder.  “Maybe I’ll feel more like playing chess another time.  Okay?  I think I’d like to take a nap now.” 

“Okay.  Sure, Daniel.  I’ll come back tomorrow, and we’ll try it then.” 

He patted her back as she put the chess pieces back into the case. 

Moments later, she was gone and he was back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and fighting the weariness that threatened to put him to sleep. 

He avoided that as much as possible, because of the nightmares. 

The door opened again, and he faced it with an impatient sigh. He didn’t want more visitors. 

“How are you feeling today, Doctor Jackson?”  Doctor Romani wheeled into the room, his expression professionally neutral, but there was an interested gleam in his eyes. 

Daniel faced away from the door, rolling onto his side on the bed. 

Romani wheeled around the bed, and Daniel rolled onto his back, determined to avoid looking the man in the face. 

The shrink was determined, though. “Well, I can’t stand up and look down on you, so we’ll have to do without eye contact.  Doctor Frasier tells me you’re still spending most of your day working, that you’re barely eating and aren’t getting enough sleep.  You know what that means.” 

He paused, waiting for the patient to answer, but Daniel kept his mouth firmly shut. 

“The longer you continue to show no improvement, the longer you stay in this room,” Romani summed up.  “I want to let you out of here, but I can’t until I’m a little more confident you’ll take proper care of yourself. Right now, I’m pretty sure you won’t.” 

“I’m fine!” Daniel snarled.  “I just wish everybody would stop hounding me. Leave me the _fuck_ alone.” 

Romani grinned.  “Hey, I must’ve pushed the right button!  He talks.” 

Daniel turned his head and glared. 

“Oooh, even better!  Eye contact.  You must be getting pretty tired of me bothering you.  That’s a good sign.  Are you ready to get some real work done, so we can get you out of here?” 

With a sigh, Daniel closed his eyes, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to avoid the head-shrinking forever.  “Fine.  Shoot.  Whatever the hell you want.” 

“All riiiiiight!” Romani cheered, rubbing his hands together with glee.  “Progress!  You earned a boatload of brownie points already.  Let’s see if you can get the gold star.” 

Jackson opened his eyes and frowned at the man, puzzled by his enthusiasm, and – if he were honest with himself – a tad curious.  “You don’t sound like any shrink I ever saw before.”  He hesitated.  “Not that I’ve seen that _many_ , mind you…” 

“Hopefully I’m not like _any_ of the others you’ve seen.  I’d like to think we’re breaking new ground here at the SGC on all sorts of fronts.  That’s going to mean flexibility is a necessity for both of us. By the book psychotherapy stays up top.” 

“Do you have a _natural_ gift for understatement, or have you been practicing?” 

“Practicing.  Major Carter’s been helping me.” 

Remembering how Sam spoke about this guy, how her eyes lit up, Daniel felt an inkling of intuition. “She likes you.” 

“And I like _her_ , but we’re not going there.  Let’s circle back around to you.” 

Daniel sat up, raised his knees and embraced them.  “So what do you want to hear, Doctor?  That I don’t sleep because I’m afraid of the nightmares?  That I don’t eat because my stomach’s all knotted up from the memories?  That I wish I could just lie down and die, so I’d be rid of all this shit in my head?  Is _that_ the kind of stuff you want to hear?” He’d started that speech quietly, but ended it with a snarling shout, his fingers digging into his forearms so hard his knuckles turned white. 

Romani’s dark eyes were sympathetic and warm.  “If it’s what you feel, yes.  Why don’t you tell me about it?” 

Daniel’s heart clenched. He choked a little on his rage, forced the tears away. He hadn’t meant to say any of that. It was too telling. 

He took a deep breath and sighed it out, struggling to take back his self-control. 

“I couldn’t _possibly_ begin to describe what I’ve been through, Doctor,” Daniel murmured, rubbing his weary eyes.  “Except that I’m now a firm believer in the concept of Hell.  That’s where I live every moment, waking or sleeping.  The flames are just internal, rather than external.” 

“Being home should be helpful,” Romani suggested.  “I mean, back on Earth, in a familiar environment, with people you love, who love you.” 

“I turn away most of my visitors.  I just can’t—“ 

He sighed and covered most of his face with his hands, leaving only his mouth and nose free.  He was so exhausted from holding everything inside him. With another shaky breath, he gave up fighting, and just let it all come tumbling out. 

“I feel like I’ve lost ‘me’ somewhere along the way.  Like I can hardly remember who I’m supposed to be.  There’s this wall between Daniel Jackson and the rest of the world, and I know there’s no way through it.  Even if there were, I don’t have the strength to do anything but look out at everything that’s out of reach and try to remember why it was important.” 

“You feel cut off from those who are most important to you,” Romani rephrased gently, “but they’re right _here_ , trying to help you break that wall down, trying to _love_ you, if you’ll let them.” 

He leaned forward in his chair a little. “Let me ask you something, Daniel.  May I call you Daniel?” 

“Most everybody does.” 

“Okay.  When you look at your friends here, what do you feel for them?” 

Daniel stared at his toes, pushed up against the sheets and blankets of his hospital bed and shrugged listlessly.  “That’s the problem.  I don’t feel _anything_.  I know what I’m _supposed_ to feel.  I _remember_ how it felt, but it’s an old memory, indistinct.  Like I can’t quite recall it all.” 

“Do you love them?” 

“Sam, Jack and Teal’c are the closest things to family that I’ve got, Doctor Romani.  I’d never intentionally do anything to hurt them.”  He raised his eyes to regard the man in the wheelchair.  “So you don’t have to worry about me harming myself. I know what it would do to them, and I can’t… I _won’t_ hurt them like that.” 

Romani’s face relaxed a little.  “That’s good to hear,” he returned, offering a warm smile. He seemed relieved. 

That wasn’t what Daniel had been expecting to see.  “Where’s your professional reserve, Doctor?  I thought shrinks were supposed to be impassive.” 

“I believe a more human touch is best,” Romani explained, “and I genuinely care about my patients.  I hope that doesn’t make me seem less of a professional in your eyes.” 

This guy was _nothing_ like MacKenzie. Maybe he could work with this guy after all.

“Actually, I think I like it.  I’ll let you know.” 

“Do you think you’re up to talking about the nightmares?” 

“Um… No.  Probably not for a long time.” 

“Are you still taking the antidepressants?” 

“Yes.  Even though I hate taking pills.” 

Romani made a note on his chart.  “I think you should continue to take those for several months.  Don’t stop without consulting me first, okay? If you stop taking it suddenly, there will be some unpleasant side effects. When you’re ready, we’ll wean you off the medication. Deal?” 

Daniel nodded wearily. 

“I can give you some medication to help you sleep without dreams, but REM sleep is important, so you can’t use it for extended periods.  You don’t really rest without the REM cycles.” 

“I know.  But for me, no dreams is a good thing.” 

“We’ll compromise, then.  Two nights with medication, and we talk both days.  After that, we’ll see if you’re ready to fly this coop.  Will that work for you?” 

Daniel shook his head, amazed by this maverick shrink.  “You _are_ different.  Maybe this _could_ work.  _As long as you don’t lock me up._   I’m not crazy, just…”  His smile vanished utterly as the maelstrom threatened to suck him under again.  He swallowed hard.  “Just suffering.” 

Romani’s eyes were sympathetic. He touched the wheels of his chair, moved them a little to draw his gaze to the vehicle.  “I know a little about suffering, too, Daniel.  Let me help you with that, and I think we can get through this together.” 

Daniel leveled him with a cool gaze, aware what the other man was trying to do.  “You can’t possibly understand, Doctor Romani.  This is a whole other lifetime injected into my consciousness.  This isn’t going to go away.  _Ever_.” 

“I understand more than you think I can, Daniel. Your whole life was changed in an instant. You’ll never be who you were, so you have to learn to be someone new. Your core personality is your baseline, still there to be your guide as you create the new Daniel Jackson. It’ll be a long, hard journey, but there’s a life on the other side. Believe me. I’ve been through that rebuilding myself.” 

He patted the chair again for emphasis. 

“And while I can’t know what it’s like to have another consciousness injected into yours, there are parallels in my field. Multiple personality disorder, schizophrenia… I can draw on some of that research to create a pathway to recovery, but you’ll have to help me because this _is_ completely new ground. You have to learn to coexist with those memories, to separate yourself from them, because they aren’t _yours_.  It won’t be easy.  The lines are going to blur now and then.” 

“That’s what scares me.” 

 _For a moment, the room vanished and he saw Reyenne’s face as he violated her body under the control of Anubis.  Kirin had pretended to be Qetesh, and Daniel had understood what she was doing.  He could still see her pain, how she hated what he was doing to her.  They were just trying to stay alive, and in the end, he had still killed them._

So much torture and death. So much horror and hate. All that was part of him now, memories he could never forget.

Tears filled his eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks. 

He made no move to wipe them away. 

“I don’t want to live like this, Doctor Romani,” he announced softly.  “Please, _help_ me.” 

“I’ll do what I can,” Romani promised gently.  “It _will_ get easier, Daniel.  We’ll find the way together.” 

Daniel sighed.  “I’m counting on that, because right now, I’m as lost as you can get.  From where I sit, there _is_ no way home.  I’m still off world, and the Stargate is broken beyond repair.”

 

* * *

 

 

**November 8**

Ysmin walked solemnly down the ramp, a large cloth bundle strapped to her back, a small wooden chest in her arms.  Her face was peaceful as she bowed to the soldiers standing guard, and General Hammond ordered them to stand down.  He met her personally at the door to the embarkation room and escorted her to the nearby conference room. 

“What can I do for you, Ysmin?” he asked pleasantly. 

“I have collected my mistress’s things,” she answered quietly.  “Her clothing I have given to the needy, but her personal property must pass to one who loved her.”  She sighed.  “To the one who is the closest thing to family she has ever had.” 

“You mean Doctor Jackson?”  Hammond frowned.  “I’m not so sure getting these things would be good for him, at the moment.  Can it wait a little while?” 

Ysmin’s face crinkled into a sad smile.  “I am old, General, and do not have long to wait.  How long…?” 

Hammond sighed.  “Might we put them into storage, and give them to Doctor Jackson later, when he’s more up to it?” 

She shook her head.  “I am sorry. This is my last duty for my mistress.  I must pass on what she left behind in person.” 

Her fingers idly stroked the smoothly polished surface of the wooden chest.  “I scattered her ashes on Siraket, where she found her greatest happiness… and her greatest sorrow.” 

“I wish we’d been able to let Doctor Jackson go back for the funeral,” Hammond intoned, “but we thought that, with the trauma he’d been through, it might be too much for him.  He’s been under medical observation since he returned.  Doctor Frasier is letting him go home today.” 

Hammond sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, brow wrinkled in thought.  “I suppose if he’s well enough to go home, maybe he can handle this.  Let me ask.  Can we get you anything while you wait?” 

Her face brightened in hope.  “Thank you, but I need nothing.”

 

* * *

 

The General strode out of the briefing room, heading straight for the infirmary.  He caught Doctor Romani just wheeling out of Jackson’s room, and stopped him to inquire about the archaeologist’s state of mind.  Satisfied that all was well, he entered the room and saw that Daniel was already dressed in civilian clothes, and packing up the books and journals he’d been working on for the past few weeks. 

“Doctor Jackson, you have a visitor,” he announced. 

Daniel glanced over his shoulder.  “I’m not exactly up for company just yet, sir.” 

Hammond cleared his throat.  “Ysmin has come to bring you Reyenne’s belongings.  It’s her last duty to discharge, and shouldn’t take long.  If you want, you can just take possession and we’ll put everything in storage until you’re ready to deal with it.” 

From the moment Reyenne’s name had been mentioned, Daniel stopped moving.  For another breath he stayed still, then resumed packing the cardboard box someone had brought him.  “Where is Ysmin?” 

“Briefing room.” 

Nodding in acceptance, Daniel promised to come along shortly. 

Hammond eyed him for a moment longer, taking note of the long scar down the back of his neck where the symbiote had entered his body.  Then he turned and left the room, heading back for his duty station in the theater above the embarkation room, to wait for SG-7’s return from their current mission. 

Jackson had earned his respect and trust throughout his many years of service to Stargate Command, but now, after what he’d recently been through, Hammond was having second thoughts about the wisdom of letting him remain on the team. 

He needed to talk to Romani about that, and stopped by the doctor’s office to set up a conference time.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel marched slowly, quietly into the room, his eyes on the gray head of the woman seated at the table, her back to the door. 

Very gently, he settled his hand on her shoulder in greeting.  She glanced up at him and smiled through her tears. 

“Doctor Jackson,” she greeted him warmly.  Standing, she took him into her arms and hugged him.  Then she gestured to the familiar chest on the table before her.  “I bring you my mistress’s possessions.  They are yours now.” 

She bowed her head and began to unfasten the pack from her back, sliding it off her shoulders and laying it out on the table. 

Pulling the chest closer, Daniel lifted the lid and looked inside.  A jumble of gleaming metal and jewels obscured individual items, but he reached in and began to sort through them, laying them out on the table one by one.  There was a Goa’uld ribbon device, a healing device and several other personal machines, as well as a wealth of jewelry, most likely left over from her days as a goddess.  A gold disc about the size of a half dollar was engraved with the image of Qetesh and suspended on a long chain, and he put it on, tucking it beneath his shirt, out of sight. 

Ysmin noticed, and smiled her approval.  She unrolled the cloth bundle and revealed a simple comb carved of polished bone; a small bottle of perfume with a delicate, subtle scent; four books and a small painting of a group of people that he assumed were Reyenne’s family. 

His fingers danced across the treasures, and he drew a deep, slow breath. 

_He remembered her wearing the jewelry, though the memories were not his.  He could see her as a goddess, haughty and cruel, stunning in her beauty, but rivaling those memories were images of her dressed in simple white robes with no makeup or jewelry of any kind._

_He thought she was even more beautiful like that._

Then he smiled. 

“Ysmin, when did Reyenne get that white streak in her hair?” 

The old woman chuckled softly.  “When she passed through Thor’s Hammer.  Do you remember her without it?” 

His smile vanished utterly.  “Yes.  In, um, Anubis’s memories, she didn’t have it, so I wondered if that was when it happened.” 

“Yes.  She fought to escape, and the struggle turned part of her hair white.” 

“I liked it.” 

“As did she.  It was a battle scar, she once told me.” 

Daniel nodded.  “Yes.  She was very brave.”  He reached out and hugged her again.  “Thank you, Ysmin.  For all you did for both of us.” 

“You are welcome, Doctor.” 

“Daniel.  Please call me Daniel.” 

She kissed his cheek, his face clasped warmly between her hands. 

“Be well, Daniel.  Find happiness again.  That would have been Reyenne’s greatest wish for you.” 

Tears filled his eyes and he nodded, unable to speak. 

A moment later, she was gone, and he just stared down at the items strewn out all over the table.  He barely heard the Stargate activate to send the old woman home, his attention focused on the treasures on the table. 

With a sigh, he began to re-pack all the items, deciding which he would take home with him, which would go to Archives, and which would go to his office for further study. 

His hand hovered for a moment over the ribbon device.  Then he picked it up, slipped it onto his palm and held it out over the table.  He knew how it worked now, and had the naquadah in his bloodstream to power it.  Almost without even thinking about it, the instrument began to glow, radiant energy streaming forth from his palm. 

He shut it down with a thought, and turned his hand until he was looking right at the jewel in the center of his palm. 

_Be a god!  Use the power you have been given.  Take whatever you want_. 

“ _You_ can’t give me what I want, Anubis,” he said aloud, “because you can’t bring the dead back to life without your machines, and I was fresh out of the one that mattered when Reyenne died in my arms.” 

He wondered how long he would continue to think the Goa’uld’s thoughts and hoped that after-effect would fade with time. 

Putting the device back into the chest, he continued packing and returned to the infirmary to finish there before stopping off at his office, then at Archives, and finally be on his way to his base quarters, the ribbon device in one pocket of his pants, the healing device in the other.  Those items would be _his_ , not logged into any list of property anywhere, and no one would know he had them. 

Which was exactly how he wanted it.

 

* * *

 

 

_Anubis strolled through the city street with the sun on his shoulders, admiring the architecture of the Sintanese.  The buildings were sweeping, with graceful curves that looked nothing like the Egyptian styles that had surrounded him as a young god._

_He breathed deeply of the fresh air and felt the power of his magnificence flowing through his veins, and that of his host.  They were a powerful combination, unique among the gods, for his host had accepted his presence freely and offered his insights into those who served as slaves._

_That was a gift from Egeria, his lost love.  
_

_The thought of her touched his heart again with unbearable grief, and for a moment, he stood with eyes closed and head bowed, aching to touch her, to see her smiling face once again._

_Egeria had been taken from him, and he knew she was dead by Ra’s own hand.  Ra had boasted to the other gods of her defeat, but the rebellion on the First World had still taken place.  No more would they harvest hosts from the Tau’ri… though in his foresight, Ra had seeded hundreds of worlds with humans so they would multiply and ensure a permanent supply of hosts for the Goa’uld.  
_

_Ra!  
_

_Hatred burned in Anubis’ heart.  He would have his revenge upon the supreme lord one day, but patience was required in that endeavor.  Already he was making plans, taking the first steps toward glorious retribution.  
_

_He walked purposefully into the science building, taking note that all who saw him offered proper obeisance, prostrating themselves on the floor until he had passed.  He marched into the laboratory where the experiments were under wa, and commanded the scientists to rise and attend him, to explain their discoveries._

_The oldest among them, a woman with gray hair put up in an ornate style, rose and kept her gaze averted as she took him to the display tanks.  
_

_“My Lord Anubis,” she began, gesturing to one glass enclosure, “this species of being has incredible recuperative powers, regenerating itself within hours to its whole structure.  We have even removed all parts but the head, and still the creatures live on.  They are amazing.”  
_

_Anubis smiled, his dark eyes glittering as he stared at the serpentine creatures swimming in the water.  “What of their weaknesses, Sin Joppa?”  
_

“Acids and bases cause them great pain, as they would to us,” the scientist replied.  “Whatever harms us also harms them, but they heal so quickly the pain of their injuries is but a minor inconvenience.” 

She demonstrated by taking one of the long, slender bodies from a tank and pouring a few drops of a chemical on its midsection. 

The creature screamed in pain, its four-pronged jaws opening reflexively, facial fins flaring with rage.  Its tiny body was still translucent blue-gray, evidence of its fragile youth. _  
_

_Sin Joppa put the creature back into its tank, and the wound began to lose its angry blue color almost immediately.  
_

_“Have you discovered any intrinsic weaknesses?  Something that would affect these creatures, but would bring no harm to you?”  
_

_“No, my lord,” Sin Joppa admitted with a trace of embarrassment, bowing and trembling.  “We are still seeking the answers.  We will find them, in time, with your patience.”  
_

_The laboratory door banged open, and every head turned.  
_

_Ra strode in, his black eyes glowing with rage.  “Anubis!” he cried.  “Attend me.  Send your slaves away.”  
_

_Anubis felt his rage boiling, but meekly bowed to his leader and gestured the scientists out of the room._

_“Clear the building,” he whispered to one on the way out._

_When they were out of earshot, Anubis regarded the seething god and smiled.  “Ra, what a pleasure to see you again.  I did not expect you to tour my holdings for some time yet.”  
_

_“Of that I am quite certain.”  Ra strode up to the tanks and stared into them.  His mouth fell open in horror, and he staggered back a few steps.  “What are you doing here, son of Osiris?  Are these not my children?”  
_

_Anubis nodded gravely, his smile disappearing. He was angry his plot had been discovered, but shifted neatly to an alternate plan._

_“They are, my lord.  These people managed to steal some of your young from the temple, and have been experimenting on them to determine what weaknesses our kind might have that they can exploit.  I have uncovered a plot to destroy us, but like the prophecy we discovered on Tejenna so long ago, we will snuff it out… along with the people themselves.”   
_

Ra reached out to touch one of the glass enclosures fondly.  “My children, innocent babies!  How can these people be so heartless?” 

He turned to face Anubis, grief in his eyes.  “How can they torture those who cannot defend themselves?” 

He leaned his forehead against one of the tanks and closed his eyes.  “See to it that these little ones are taken safely back to my temple at Chulak.  Those who are too deformed to survive, who are in agony that cannot be cured…” 

Ra closed his eyes.  “Give them quick and painless death, Anubis.  Be merciful to my children.” _  
_

_ As you were to mine? _ _Anubis heard in the privacy of his own mind, but said nothing._

_He bowed to his master.  “It will be done, my lord.”  
_

_“And when my children are safely away, you will destroy this world, and all who have come from it.  Should any of these be hosts to our own, order them to find new hosts and kill the old.  I will have none of these people survive, as with the Tejenna.”_

_Ra turned with a final glare of white-hot rage and stormed out of the institution.  
_

_Anubis didn’t know how Ra had discovered this place, but the elder had bought Anubis’ story for the moment.  In time, he would forget about the incident, and if he discovered who had truly been responsible for the torture, mutilation and deaths of his young, Anubis would answer for it._

_Perhaps by then, Anubis would rival the supreme lord in power and be free of reprisal._

_There were other places in which he worked in secret, testing the weaknesses of the Goa’uld._

_He was breeding assassins for the purpose of taking power into his own hands one day, and the Ashrak would help to get him there.  
_

_He threw a disdainful glance at the infants in those tanks and followed his master out into the sunlight.  He would kill as many of the babies as he could and deliver only a fraction to Ra’s hands._

_After that, he would raze the planet from space, and hunt down all the remaining Sintanese with pleasure.  He would delight in the destruction, without a thought to those who had been loyal to him._

_After all, he was a god.  
_

_The god of death._

_And he would ensure there was plenty of that for everyone._

 

Daniel’s eyes opened as he sat on the side of the bed in his lockdown quarters, the box of Reyenne’s things still tightly clutched in his lap. 

Through the eyes of Anubis, translated with imagery from his own mind, he saw rows and rows of incubators, filled with tiny human infants, all of them crying with pain.  They had been mutilated, tortured, treated with chemicals that set their blood afire.  Innocent, helpless infants… 

He _knew_ they were really Goa’uld larvae.  He had seen the memory, felt it come unbidden into his consciousness as they did so often these days, and knew its source was Anubis, but the horror of those experiments had been somehow translated into human terms, and Daniel felt the revulsion to the roots of his soul. 

He could still hear their cries, could feel their pain and ached to comfort them somehow, but they were long dead, all of them. 

He set the box aside on the bed, hands shaking as he made his way to the bathroom.  He couldn’t look in the mirror, couldn’t look into his own eyes. 

 _He had been Anubis_. 

He looked at his hands and heard the echo of the Siraketan baby scream as he’d crushed its skull beneath his boot, its wail of pain and terror gurgling into silence. 

“Oh, God, _no!”_ he moaned.  His stomach lurched, and he vomited into the toilet as the cries of all his victims echoed in his mind, forcing him to his knees.  He sat on the cold linoleum floor, weeping over the bowl, wishing he could erase every trace of the monster from his mind. 

_Now_ he knew why the Goa’uld had sent Lord Yu to dispatch Anubis. 

At some point, the truth about those experiments had come out, and his disregard for _all_ life was made clear.  The System Lords had realized what a danger he was to them all, and had excommunicated him from their ranks. 

But their treachery had been survived, and Anubis used his time well, planning his vengeance. 

Daniel was just beginning to realize how deeply Anubis’s secrets went.  He didn’t want to know more, didn’t want to see more, but he knew the memories would come anyway.  He had done this to himself, delving into the Goa’uld’s mind as he slept, hunting for anything he could use to gain control, even for a moment. 

The legacy of Anubis was a lifetime of horror, destined to come one memory at a time. 

He set the box aside and opened the drawer in the nightstand next to his bed.  Inside was a small black journal, closed with a brass lock.  He opened it and picked up a pen from his table tray, then closed his eyes for a moment to concentrate. The journal had been Romani’s idea, a private place to put down the memories and dreams of Anubis as they came to him. 

This one had been particularly vivid, and Daniel unconsciously switched the pen to his left hand, looked down at the page and began to write. 

The story came effortlessly, and when he was finished, he closed the journal, locked it up and slid it back into the drawer. 

For a long time he sat silently on the bed, unaware of anything, until the memory faded and let him go.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack headed for the briefing room, arranging his notes for the upcoming meeting.  He looked up and spied a familiar face framed by long black hair, liberally streaked with gray.  He smiled as he recognized Doctor Logan, and she grinned back. 

“How ya doin’, Jack?” 

“Just peachy, Logan,” he shot back happily.  “How ‘bout yourself?” 

“I’ve been off world for best part of a week, and damn, it’s good to be home!  How’s the leg?” 

“Perfect.  ’S good to see you, kiddo.  You likin’ your job these days?” 

Logan beamed and enthusiastically launched into a tale about her team’s latest mission. 

Jack listened to the boring talk about cartouches and hieroglyphs and ruins as if he really had an interest in them.  He smiled as he recalled their first encounter, and nodded his head while he pretended to listen. 

That had been almost three years ago, and they had struck up a fond acquaintance since then.  He discovered she liked beer and hockey almost as much as he did, and that she was only a few months older than himself.  She had all the right qualities for a buddy, but he rarely had time for friendships outside his own team. 

He certainly didn’t have time for romance, though he had considered it occasionally. 

“You haven’t heard a word I said, have you, Jack?” she said suddenly. 

“’Course I have! You were talking about old stuff you found.  I just _love_ hearing about all that.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I’m gonna have to wash your mouth out with soap if you don’t stop that, Logan.  Ladies don’t talk like that.” 

“That’s right, and don’t go trying to make me into one,” she teased back. 

Then her smile faded, and worry crept into her eyes.  “How’s DJ doing, Jack?  We’ve all been hoping to get some good news, but nobody’s heard anything.” 

Jack sobered.  “He’s doing okay.  They’re letting him go home today, which is progress, but he’s not on active duty yet.  Doc Romani told him maybe after their next session.”  He shrugged.  “I go by and see him every day, but he still doesn’t talk much.” 

“Maybe he just needs some more time.”  Logan’s eyes were haunted.  “Though I can imagine eternity might not be long enough to learn to deal with what that poor boy’s been through.” 

“Yeah.”  He just stared at her, aware how much she liked Daniel.  The archaeologists had worked together several times on research projects, but Jack’s relationship with Logan was strictly personal.  Their mutual interests brought them together at a handful of SGC events, hiding in the corners and arguing hockey stats until the cows came home. 

She was okay… for a geek. 

“Take care of him, okay?  He’s a good guy.  But then, so are you underneath all the crap.” 

She turned without looking at him again and continued on down the corridor. 

He watched her moving away and wished he knew her better. 

Suddenly he remembered the game they always played before parting.  All the paperwork he’d ever seen on the archaeologist listed her first name only by initial.  Nobody knew what it stood for, but Jack was still digging in his off time. 

“Hey, Logan, what’s the ‘S’ for?” 

“Stuuuuuupendous,” she shot back with a grin, tossed casually over her shoulder. 

It was a different word every time, some random adjective that came to mind rather than anything close to a name. 

He liked the game, but the mystery kept her on his mind, even when he’d rather think of other things, like the mission for which he was supposed to be preparing. 

He ambled toward the briefing room, and kept his fingers crossed that Romani would clear Daniel for duty before they were due to leave on their next trip through the ‘gate. 

The mission was scheduled two days away, which pleased Jack immensely. 

He headed for the infirmary, checking with Doctor Frasier on the latest before entering Daniel’s room. 

It was good to see his teammate up, and greeted him with a nod. 

Daniel’s eyes swept over him as he tucked in his shirttail. 

Jack smiled and tried to keep his tone light, upbeat. “I came to drive you home.” 

Daniel said nothing.  He checked the room for any of his belongings that might have been left behind, but he had gathered it all.  He headed for the door with his box in his hands. 

“Logan was asking about you,” said Jack warmly.  “Lots of folks been asking.  I told ‘em you were okay.” 

Jack followed him, moving up beside him as they strolled down the corridor to the elevator.  They rode to the top in silence, signing out and moving out of the tunnel mouth toward the parking lot that lay beyond. 

“Where’re you parked?” Daniel asked, scanning the lot for his own vehicle. 

Pointing, Jack informed him that Daniel’s car had been driven back to his apartment and left in the underground lot until he was back on his feet.  “Sam drove it home after we got you back.  She said it needs a tune-up.” 

“Like I care, at the moment,” Daniel snapped.  He frowned.  “Sorry, Jack.  Things are coming out my mouth without approval lately.  I used to think before I spoke.” 

Jack laid his hand on the other man’s shoulder, gave him a squeeze.  “Give yourself some time.  You’ll get yourself back.” 

Frowning, Daniel plodded along beside him, head down.  “I don’t think so.  I don’t think I’ll ever be ‘me’ again.  At least, not the ‘me’ you knew.  That guy died on Siraket.” 

Jack’s arm swept around his shoulders and pulled him close.  “We’ll see, buddy.  I think he’s still in there somewhere.” 

He unlocked the truck and reached into the back for a small pet carrier.  “Somebody missed you.” 

Daniel glanced into the cage front.  An almost-smile softened the corners of his mouth and he opened the carrier, reaching inside to liberate his cat. 

He drew back instinctively as she hissed at him, ears laid back in fear. 

“Whoa.  I guess Zoe knows I’m not me, too.”  

The cat had never done that before, and Jack was startled. The little furball was usually all over Daniel, purring and rubbing against him. He knew that attack had hurt his friend deeply, but Daniel’s face was set, if a tad angry. 

He was angry about everything lately. 

Daniel locked the door back and left the cat in the carrier, then climbed into the passenger seat and bucked himself in.  He gazed straight out the windshield and waited for Jack to drive off. 

“She’ll get over it,” Jack assured him from the driver’s seat.  “Just let her get back home with you, and she’ll recognize you’re still you.  She’s probably just pissed at you for being gone so long.” 

Daniel didn’t reply.  He was silent all the way back to his apartment, stiff and wooden in his seat.

Jack carried the cat upstairs for him, while Daniel carried the potty box, litter and food. 

Once inside, Jack opened the carrier and the cat shot out, running off to hide in the bedroom. 

“Want something to drink?” Daniel offered politely, heading for the kitchen.  He poured kibble into the cat’s bowl, filled another with fresh water, and opened the refrigerator. 

“Beer would be good.”  Jack took a seat on the sofa, remembering when he, Sam and Teal’c had come to clean out the apartment, when they thought Daniel had died that first year on the team.  Jack couldn’t do it, and ordered everyone out before they even got started, partly because some portion of his mind had known Daniel was still alive, but also because he simply couldn’t bear the loss. 

“Thanks for the groceries, by the way. I’ll pay you back.” 

He took the bottle offered to him. “No need. That’s what friends are for.” 

Daniel wandered over to the windows looking out onto the city. 

Watching the younger man sip a bottled water, Jack recalled finding Daniel on the outside of the balcony railing years earlier, on the verge of jumping to his death. 

He set his beer down on the coffee table and stood, shoving his hands in his pockets.  Having Daniel out there made him nervous. Maybe Daniel shouldn’t be living in a place that high off the ground.

The cat wandered over to Jack and stood rubbing itself on his ankles. 

“Go over there,” Jack whispered to the beast, nodding at his companion.  “You’re home now, furball.  Go see Daniel.” 

Zoe looked innocently up at him.  “Murr?” 

Jack jerked his head toward Daniel, willing the animal to greet him. 

“It’s okay, Jack.  She knows I’m different.  She can probably smell the naquadah.” 

Jack shot an angry glare at him.  “Can it, Daniel!” he ordered.  “You’re _you._  You’ve just been gone a long time.  Maybe she’s pissed at you for shuffling her around all over the place when you travel.  Maybe she forgot about you.  Cats aren’t too bright, you know.  Dogs, on the other hand—“ 

Daniel squatted down and extended his hand toward the animal, knuckles out, to let her catch his scent. 

Zoe’s nose worked as her eyes rolled up to him regard him with suspicion.  “She remembers me.  She can just sense the evil.” 

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud! You’re _not_ evil, Daniel.  It’ll take Zoe some time, but she’ll get used to you again,” Jack promised.  “And I’m damn sure glad to be rid of her…  Cats!” 

He shivered, watching as Daniel tried to pet the little monster. 

After a couple of tries, he managed to make contact for a few strokes before the cat wandered away. 

Daniel turned and headed for the aquarium.  “Who’s been doing tank duty?  It needs a good cleaning.” 

_“You_ get to do that.  Emma broke her hip on your cat, so I got Zoe while I was recuperating, and Sam took care of the fish.  I think your neighbor’s doing all right now, but don’t be surprised if she heaps on the guilt.” 

Alarm flared in Daniel’s eyes.  “Is Emma okay?  I should go see her.” 

_That_ was the Jackson he knew.  O’Neill nodded, trying to hide his approval at seeing that glimmer of his old friend.  “Yeah, you should.  Bake her some cookies or somethin’ and go visit.  She’ll like that.” 

“Doctor Romani wants me to wax domestic for a day or two before I come back to work.  Sleep in, stuff like that.  Maybe I will do some baking.” 

Jack stared at him, hoping the longing wasn’t in his eyes.  “Um, what kind of cookies did you have in mind?” 

“I’ll bring you some, I promise.” 

“But they’ll be normal cookies, like chocolate chip, and not some god-awful recipe you picked up on Abydos, right?” 

Jack had tasted some of the exotic dishes Daniel brought back with him from various trips to out of the way places on Earth and beyond.  Some of them were barely palatable, but the archaeologist took great pride in serving them to his friends.  Jack preferred simple fare, but it was one of the things they joked with each other about. 

“Yeah.  Chocolate walnut, maybe.” Daniel’s tone was completely neutral, not a trace of humor in it. 

The invitation to tease fell flat, and Jack felt disheartened.  The pieces were not falling into place as he’d hoped they would.  Disappointments were racking up all around Daniel, and that wasn’t a good thing. 

Jack went to him and took him by the shoulders.  “It’s gonna be okay, Daniel.  I _know_ it.” 

Those blue eyes rolled up to him, filled with unspeakable grief.  “Sure, Jack.”  He turned away toward the kitchen, fetching a second beer. 

“That’s not for you, is it? You sure it’s okay to mix with your medication?”  Jack wished he’d kept his mouth shut as soon as the words came out. 

Daniel reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the bottles of antidepressants, glancing over the label.  “I think so, but I’ll call and check.  I won’t be getting drunk, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Maybe we could both tie one on.  If it’s okay with Doc Romani.” 

“I _don’t_ need a babysitter, Jack.  I’ll be all right.”  Daniel took off his coat and hung it up, then set the pills on the coffee table as he took a seat on the couch. 

O’Neill returned to his seat on the sofa and sipped his beer.  “Don’t blame me if I worry, big guy.  I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His guts were still clenched. In his mind’s eye, he could see his buddy taking a header off that balcony. 

Daniel leaned his head back against the sofa.  “I’m not going to kill myself, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”  He leveled a steady gaze at his guest.  “I’m okay, Jack.  I’d never do that you you guys. Really.  I’m just… unbearably tired.” 

The cat jumped up on the sofa next to Daniel, sniffed him, and gingerly stepped onto his lap.  

His face brightened..  “Hey, Zoe.” 

Moving very slowly, he scrubbed her between the ears and was rewarded with a soft, rumbling purr.  “It’s good to be home.” 

“It’s good to have you back,” Jack said warmly, and finished his beer.  “You get some rest, and we’ll do something tomorrow.  Just the two of us.” 

“Wait till I call, if you don’t mind.  I might spend the day in bed.” 

“Sure thing.  Just let me know if you want some company.”  He paused, realizing how that had sounded.  “Uh, that is, when you’re ready to get _out_ of bed.” 

The joke didn’t even register.  “Sure.  Night, Jack.” 

“Night, Daniel.” 

Jack let himself out.  As he headed for the elevator, he pulled out his cell phone and called Romani to check on mixing those medications with alcohol.  He was about to knock on the door again when it opened under his hand.  Daniel walked away without speaking to him, phone pressed to his ear. 

“Thanks, Doctor Romani,” he said flatly.  “I’ll be sure to tell Jack.” 

He rang off and went to put his phone back on the cradle.  “The doctor says you should stay with me to watch for slurred speech, passing out, that sort of thing.  Should take a couple hours for the alcohol to get out of my system, and then I should be okay, but no more booze.” 

He eyed the bottle in his hand with a frown. 

“I don’t like beer, anyway.  I keep this stuff here for you.”  He handed the pill bottle over and trudged into his living room. 

“How’d you know I was still there?” Jack asked. 

Daniel shrugged.  “You called before I did.  And no, Romani didn’t tell me you rang in first.  That’s just how you are.  I _know_ you, Jack.” 

O’Neill nodded and stepped inside the apartment.  “Yeah.  I guess we do know each other pretty good by now.” 

He headed for the balcony and peered over the railing.  “But what a guy who’s afraid of heights is doing living in the _penthouse_ of a building this tall just stymies me.  You wanna tell me why you picked this place?” 

They chatted amiably for a while until Jack was sure the other man experienced no ill effects from mixing antidepressants and alcohol. They parted company on good terms, with Daniel ambling off to bed. 

Jack drove himself home and spent several hours on his roof with the telescope before moving downstairs to the study.  Head down, he let his mind return to the project he’d been working on in his private time for the last year.  The images came more easily now, and he understood more of what he caught in his dreams.  The Kelno’reem meditation technique Teal’c had taught him so long ago helped with retrieval, though he wasn’t ready to share this revelation with anyone just yet.  He wanted to finish it, and once it was complete, he’d have to find a way to pass it off as a discovery made on a mission. 

He went to the wall safe and opened it, examining the roll of paper he had carefully made by hand more than a year earlier.  The drawings were progressing, but the notes weren’t clear enough yet.  There was still something important missing that continued to elude him, and without it, the project was useless.  He pulled the roll out, laid it open on his desk and weighted the corners so it wouldn’t roll up again.  Fetching the homemade ink, pen and drawing tools he kept with the paper in his safe, he sat down at the desk and set to work. 

This time, the images came through as he concentrated, offering the last piece that would provide everything he needed to make it work.  It was going to be awesome.  It would knock people’s socks off. 

_“Euge,”_ he murmured, nodding his head.  _“Noo ani progressetat.”  
_

_Good. We are progressing._

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel trudged along the sidewalk with his head down in the late morning rain, not caring that he was soaking wet. He passed by a newsstand and glanced at the papers and books inside, but nothing drew his interest on his first day home from the infirmary. Next door was a glassed-in shop with a gold leaf sign on the window.

He almost walked right by it, as he usually did, on his way to the market. 

Today, however, he glanced inside.

Something clicked, and he pushed the door open and went in.

Scanning the walls, he saw nothing like the design he wanted, and wandered over to a notebook on the counter filled with additional images.

After a few minutes, he found exactly what he was looking for, and filled out one of the customer cards while he waited his turn. 

The artist finished up a young couple getting a matching design, and then Daniel handed over his request with the proper amount of cash. 

“How you doin’ today, man?” the artist asked cordially. “Sure is wet out there.” 

“Yep.” Daniel stripped off his shirt and sat back in the padded chair. 

“Where do you want it?” asked the man, eyeing the note card with his customer’s order. 

“Eye of Ra above the snake of Apophis on my left arm, Anubis on my right,” Daniel told him, and pointed just above the bend of his left elbow for positioning. 

“You got it, dude.” The tattoo artist replaced the needle assembly with a sterile packaged one, emptied out his inks, cleaned the wells and refilled them, and sat down on his stool with a felt tip marker to draw the designs onto his customer before beginning the process of applying the design. 

As Daniel exited the shop, his arms stinging beneath the bandages, he spied a pair of motorcycles parked outside on the street and paused a moment to stare. 

They were inexpensive transportation compared to a car. They got good gas mileage, though money wasn’t really a problem for him anymore. He banked nearly everything that he didn’t spend on his apartment or food, and the cash seemed to be piling up. He’d been thinking about trading in his old Jeep anyway, since it was starting to have problems and be less reliable. 

It might feel good to have the wind in his face every day, to feel the effects of speed against his skin. Consciously, he didn’t think about the fact that riding a motorcycle was inherently more dangerous than driving a car, but part of him knew it would be far easier to die on a bike than when protected inside the steel cage of an automobile.

After he returned home from the market and put his groceries away, he drove down to the nearest Kawasaki shop, picked out the biggest, fastest bike they had – along with all the requisite paraphernalia – registered for lessons and headed for the DMV to get a license for his new wheels.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel laid the vegetables out on the counter, rinsed them and set aside a paper towel for the parings. Moving on autopilot, he reached into the rack for a knife and took a tomato into his left hand, ready to quarter it for a salad.

Then he paused, the light from overhead gleaming on the sharp silver blade. 

He stared at it. He raised it in front of his face and watched the light and shadows play on the metal. His smile was grim, maybe a little mad. 

_It would be so easy. So easy. There would be a little pain when the blade went into his throat. It would be messy, and someone would have to clean up when it was over. He would slowly lose consciousness, like falling asleep, as his brain lost oxygen and nutrients and finally shut down. He would simply slide away, and be gone._

He should have let sleeping dogs lie. He should have avoided the dig and stuck with his regular work at the SGC, but dissatisfaction had pushed him away, sent him looking for something else, something away from the torment of his life.

That one trip off world had changed him irrevocably, made him into a monster, turned what he’d thought was torment into a minor inconvenience. 

Daniel pressed the point of the knife against his jugular, just to see how it would feel. The pointed tip cut into his skin and stung. It was very sharp, and it would be quick. Just a few minutes and there would be no more pain, no more memories of Anubis waking him up nights or haunting his conscious thoughts. 

_So easy._

_So easy._

He pushed a little harder, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. It didn’t hurt that much, after all. 

_No more Anubis, ever. Blessed release. Freedom, and eternal peace._

“Murrr?” 

His cat butted against his legs, and then leaped nimbly up onto the counter to rub itself against his shirt front. 

Daniel hesitated, his hand trembling. He _wanted_ this, wanted it so desperately it was all he could do to hold back. Desire for death made him tremble. 

But he was needed here. There was a great quest to finish, no matter how he bridled against how it was being carried out. There were people who cared about him, who would never get over the pain of his loss. He had _promised_ not to die by his own hand. 

Jack, Sam and Teal’c were his family. They were all he had, all he would ever have to call his own. And of course, Zoe the cat, whose life he had saved as a kitten. He owed them all. 

He pulled the blade back and stared at it, his blood staining the tip. Fingers touched the tiny wound and he felt the wetness – just a trickle, easy enough to explain away as a shaving accident, if anybody noticed.

He set down the knife, stroked the cat and assured it that he was all right, and went into the bathroom to fetch a styptic or band-aid, something to close the little cut. 

Moments later, he returned to the kitchen, rinsed off the knife, and set about making a salad to accompany his dinner, simmering on the stove. 

There had been no tears, no great surge of anguish. He’d been perfectly rational, and now that he’d decided against suicide, he felt nothing at all. The desire had passed, and now it was dinnertime. 

When he had eaten, he tried to study but found himself distracted and pulled out the Anubis journal instead. He sat with the pen in hand, trying to remember what memory had been bothering him. The pen seemed to shift automatically to his left hand, and his fingers curled around it and began to move. 

_I was proud of my First Prime. Many generations of breeding the Shoshani to my purposes produced great, strong men, beautiful men, who served me without question, yet I had no Jaffa. My Ashraks were scattered, and for centuries no one even knew I was alive. I planned my revenge with patience and anticipation, waiting for the day when I would be strong enough to leave the sarcophagus for a reasonable period.  
_

_But one day, a handful of Jaffa came through the chaapa’ai to my secret home, in search of new worlds to conquer for their master. They were the minions of Apophis, and when they were brought before me, I took great pleasure in extracting information from them. I learned that Apophis and Hathor had spawned a young queen, not yet mature enough to take a host, but reason for great celebration among the Goa’uld._

_No breeders had been spawned in several thousand years, and this gave the Goa’uld hope.  
_

_And it gave me a weapon.  
_

_I sent a team of Shoshani who did not bear my mark in search of Anat. I gave them a secret message to deliver to her, and a proposed payment. Two years later, what was left of the envoy returned… and brought with them a Jaffa woman, dressed in royal finery, bearing the immature queen in her belly.  
_

_The search began for a host that would please me and my young queen. All the great houses of Shoshan sent their most beautiful daughters except one. The elders of Shoshan believed the impurity of the Sennetna would insult me, but I wished to see what the Shoshani men most desired… and most feared._

_Intelligent, educated women posed a great threat to those men, though they kept that fear hidden beneath a cloak of tradition.  
_

_Still, I am a god. I have no fear of such females, and among them I found the most perfect flower for my garden. Her name was Reyenne, and she alone of all the maidens I chose was brave enough to look me in the eye and remain standing. She preferred her books to conversation, but her mind was sharp. She was strong and passionate, and when the queen matured, Reyenne gave herself up without protest.  
_

_And so Qetesh was born. My queen was spoiled and haughty. She took pleasure in the pain of her servants, and only my will curbed her thirst for blood and savagery. Together we ruled Shoshan for nearly two hundred years, while I waited patiently for my body to heal and grow strong enough to leave the ruined host I inhabited. I listened to his pleas for death until I grew sick of them. My mind twisted until I could barely think, and when I remembered the legend of Cimmeria, I could not recall why our people were forbidden to go there. I knew only that it was a place the Goa’uld feared, and as such, held great promise in my campaign of vengeance.  
_

_I sent Qetesh to investigate it for me, believing she would return.  
_

_I did not miss her greatly when she did not.  
_

_How surprised I was to discover that I longed for the woman, Reyenne, and how she would talk with me endlessly about great things, how she cared for my damaged body as if she felt something other than abhorrence for me. The few years that Reyenne lived in my palace while Qetesh matured were among my fondest, riddled as they were with agony. For what daily destroyed my host’s body did not dim the pleasure she brought me. She was my light in the darkness.  
_

_And now she is gone.  
_

Daniel stared at the pen in his left hand. He wasn’t ambidexterous. He was a rightie, always had been, but every time he’d written in that journal, letting Anubis dictate, the pen ended up in the other hand. He didn’t really remember writing anything, and the handwriting didn’t look like his own, either. 

_How much of the symbiote remains?_ he had asked Reyenne, once upon a time. 

She hadn’t answered. 

But now he thought he knew. 

Daniel closed the book and laid it on his coffee table with the pen, then got up and wandered toward the balcony.

 It was cold outside, and he had the windows covered to keep the warmth in.

He pulled the door open and stood on the threshold, just looking out at the view of the city. 

He remembered climbing over the railing and holding on, part of him hesitating before taking that final step. Jack had come for him just at that moment, and saved his life.

Daniel hated high places, hated what they made him remember – his foster father taking him up into the bell tower at the family’s manor house and blocking the way to the ladder. It had been a long climb up the winding stairs to get there, but every time he misbehaved, every misstep he made with the man, Paul Kautz brought him there as punishment.

There was only one way down – endure the pain and humiliation of his abuse, and when it was over, the man would let him go. 

Daniel stepped out on the balcony, a swirl of snow-laden wind cutting into his face. 

_Pain,_ he thought to himself. _That’s all that’s left for me._

He leaned against the railing and looked down at the sidewalk far below. And then he turned and wandered slowly back inside and shut the glass door behind himself.

 

* * *

 

 

**17 November**

“So what are we lookin’ for, Logan?” asked Jack, gazing around at the endless water surrounding them. “This appears to be the proverbial desert island. We can see everything there is to see. Which is a whole lot of nothin’.” 

“That’s why we brought the diving gear and the boat,” the archaeologist quipped. “Your team has been checked out on this stuff, right?” 

Jack frowned, eyeing the wetsuits and tanks. “Not that it says ‘Navy’ anywhere on my uniform, but yeah. We’re cool. Even I passed.” 

Logan didn’t seem to be listening. “Okay. So, first thing is to do a little patrolling in the boat and see if we can find any land in a ten-mile radius. I guess you get to do that part. Meanwhile, I’ll stay here and do some underwater scanning to look for structures of any kind.” 

“Carter, you’re with me. Teal’c, you look out for the Doc, here.” Jack strapped on his life vest and nodded to Sam to do the same.

Gathering their weapons and some of Sam’s technological gear, they piled into the Zodiac and pushed off into the glassy water. He piloted the craft in a straight line, heading away from the sun, and turned in a slow circle as they hit the ten-mile limit.

Glancing back at Carter, he asked, “Find anything?” 

She hadn’t made a peep since they came through the ‘gate. “There are some structures under the surface, sir. Lots of them. But they may well be coral or some other naturally occurring item. I’m not willing to say they’re buildings until I’ve seen them.” 

“So, we might have mermaids on this world?” Jack asked with a grin. “Sweet! Can’t wait to meet ‘em.” 

Sam grinned back and turned off the machines as they pulled up to the little island where the Stargate sat. Logan squatted on a rock jutting out into the water, already dressed in a wet suit, hands and feet bare and ready to go into the water.

But she was studying the surface with a distinct expression of reservation. 

“Whatsamatter, Doc?” asked Jack as he pulled the boat up onto the shore. “I thought you were all for taking a swim here.” 

“Something’s not right,” Logan shot back. “Call it woman’s intuition, if you want. What did you guys find?” 

“Possible coral colonies in sweeping vertical arrays, very symmetrical in shape. That, or buildings of unusual design.” Sam handed over the scanner with the playback already in progress. 

“Yeah. I see what you mean. We should take a closer look.” Logan handed the scanner back and went to the MALP. Digging through the equipment they had packed for the trip, she pulled out a small black box with two little joysticks on the top surface. From an aluminum case she withdrew a silver object bristling with light bulbs and did a power check. The ball lit up brightly, and the view screen on the little black box came on as well. 

“What’s up, Doc?” asked Jack, peering over her shoulder at the devices. 

“I’m going to send OSCAR down before we set foot in that water,” she stated firmly. 

“Oscar?” 

“Oceanic Surveillance Camera and Recorder,” Sam explained. “Logan thought it would be a good idea to have along. Just in case.” 

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s see what’s down there.” 

On Logan’s instruction, Jack pitched the ball into the water. It sank immediately, and he backed away from the bank to stand behind Logan and watch what appeared on the screen.

The woman piloted the remote control device expertly, heading directly for the largest concentration of the underwater structures Sam had mapped.

Jack and Teal’c discussed the variety of alien fish they spotted as OSCAR moved through the deep water, but everyone fell silent as the surveillance device came into view of the structures. 

“You seeing what I’m seeing?” Logan asked. 

Sam was breathless. “Yeah. Looks like the whole civilization drowned.” 

“So, are we thinkin’ Atlantis?” Jack mused. 

The cameras revealed a wall at the outskirts of the submerged city, decorated with four distinct sets of now-familiar alien writing.

“I don’t think so,” Logan answered. “Look back there.” She pointed to a light colored shape in the background, and guided the sphere toward it. 

The statue was bipedal, but in no way human. It looked to have been in the water for a _very_ long time. 

“Let me get a good shot of that wall with the Four Races writing on it, and we’ll be ready to go,” Logan told the Colonel. “Why don’t you and Teal’c start packing everything up and getting ready to ship out?” 

“That’d be another Navy expression, ma’am,” Jack shot back teasingly. “ _Try_ to remember we’re in the Air Force. Some of us are, anyway.” 

She grinned up at him, then returned to studying the monitor. 

“Holy Hannah!” cried Sam. “Did you _see_ that thing?” She pointed at the tiny screen. 

“What thing?” Jack demanded, craning his neck to see the display again. 

Logan’s thumbs started working the controls frantically as she tried to guide OSCAR back to the island. “Shit!” she blurted. “Somebody dial home! We’ve gotta get the hell outta here fast!” 

Teal’c headed for the DHD, pressing the appropriate buttons on the dial while Sam scurried to help gather up their gear. Jack stepped closer, leaning down to get a better look at the screen. 

“I don’t see anyth—“ 

Whatever it was, it was huge and ugly. The fish – _if_ that was what it was – resembled a moray eel, but with hands sporting webbed fingers and feet shaped like paddles, but perfectly capable of walking on land. It swam rapidly toward the OSCAR sphere, its huge maw opening as it came closer.

It swam right past the orb, and Jack realized that the sphere wasn’t its target. 

_It was heading straight for the island._

And in its wake, he could see more of the creatures coming after it, streaming out of the drowned buildings they had claimed as their own. 

The Stargate engaged with a satisfying clink. 

Sam raced toward it, glancing over her shoulder to see that the others were following. Logan stood on the rock, desperately trying to guide the OSCAR back.

Jack grabbed her jacket and towed her toward the ‘gate with Teal’c watching the water beside them, weapon ready for action. 

“Forget it, Logan!” Jack shouted. “Just leave it. Get your ass back to base right _now!”_

Water splashed everywhere as the first of the creatures breached the surface with an impressive display of power. Its smooth body glistened in the sunlight, and hatred glittered in its amber eyes. Another one breached farther out to sea as the first one struggled to its feet, knee-deep in water, headed right for them. 

O’Neill heard the _kawoosh_ behind him and jerked Logan toward it, glancing around for Carter and Teal’c. The Major keyed in the IDC just as Teal’c fired.

Carter glanced at each of them to determine their positioning, then dashed through the event horizon.

Jack flung Logan through the ‘gate.

“Come on, Teal’c!” O’Neill shouted. Turning back toward the creatures, Jack aimed his weapon and fired at the closest one, but the bullets only seemed to dent the creatures’ thick hides. “Fall back! Fall back! Get through the ‘gate!” he called, laying down cover fire while the Jaffa dove through the wormhole. 

Jack could smell the creatures’ fishy breath as he backed through the portal.

Once on the other side he gave the command to close the iris the instant he was sure all his people had come home.

Panting with exertion, heart racing with the adrenaline flowing through his system, he studied Logan, sitting on her behind on the ramp at his feet. 

“Hope you got what you wanted, Doc,” he mused, offering her a hand to get to her feet. 

She stared down at the control device still clutched in her hands. “Yeah. I guess so, Jack. Thanks for saving my ass.” 

“And a very fine ass it is,” he quipped, watching her rise slowly to her feet. 

She met his startled gaze with a delighted grin. 

“I have no idea why I said that. Pardon me, Doctor. I’ll watch my mouth in the future.” 

She shook her head, still smiling. “Well, for a second there, I thought you actually noticed I was a _woman_. No harm done, Jack. Forget it.” 

Face flaming, he watched her walk out of the ‘gate room rubbing her behind, still studying the pictures on the control unit.

Glancing around at the observers on his own team and above in the control room, Jack re-settled his ball cap on his head and ducked out of the room as quickly as he could, hoping no one had heard his slip of the lip.

General Hammond’s voice boomed after him over the speakers with the time for the mission debriefing.

Sam caught up to him and tugged at his sleeve. “What’s up with that, Colonel?” she teased, a broad smile plastered across her face. “You actually made a _pass_ at Logan, in front of God and everybody! Are you okay?” 

“Can it, Carter,” he snapped. “I _didn’t_ do it. You _didn’t_ hear it. It _didn’t_ happen.” 

“I bear witness as well,” Teal’c chimed in as he caught up to them. “You complimented Doctor Logan on her… ass.” 

O’Neill stopped dead in his tracks and pivoted to face the Jaffa, a look of mock horror on his face. “Teal’c! You said ‘ass’!” 

“As did you, O’Neill. She seemed to appreciate your comment. Why are you so adamant that you—“ 

“Because I could get in _big_ trouble with the brass for sexual harassment,” Jack explained irritably. “Despite whether or not Logan was happy about it.” 

“She was,” Sam assured him, still grinning. “I think you should ask her out.” 

“On a _date_?” Jack shook his head and continued down the hall to the armory to stow away their weapons. “You’ve lost your mind, Carter. She’s a _scientist_.” 

“Who loves hockey and beer and rides a motorcycle,” Sam added. “You like _her_. She likes _you_. I say, go for it.” 

Jack sighed and clenched his teeth. “Let’s see if I get busted down to A-One-C first, shall we?” 

“I will speak with Doctor Logan on your behalf,” Teal’c offered. “She will not press harassment charges against you.” 

“Don’t threaten her, Teal’c.” 

“I will not.” 

The Colonel’s shoulders drooped as he trudged into the armory.

Logan was already there, checking in her weapons. She winked at him. “Don’t worry about it, Jack. I’ll talk to Hammond and make sure he understands it was just a slip. It’s no big, okay? Stop quaking in your boots.” 

Jack rounded on all of them. “Didn’t _any_ of you attend the harassment seminars? It doesn’t _matter_ if she liked it.” He turned around to face the archaeologist. “Did you?” 

Logan grinned. “Yeah. I don’t often get that sort of thing at my age. Thanks.”

She handed over her pistol, and he put them away for her.

“Look, I’ve got the answer here, O’Neill. Just tell Hammond that we’re dating. I’ll meet you outside the locker room after debriefing and we can be seen leaving together. That ought to quell any suspicions and give folks plenty to talk about, and this will all just go away.”

She removed her knife and stowed it away while she talked, then regarded him with eyes hinting a great deal of mischief was in store. 

He stared, not at all sure of what he was seeing. 

Her expression abruptly vanished, replaced with a clear look of irritation. “I wasn’t proposing marriage, here. Just giving you a cover story. Lighten up. The world won’t come to an end if you go on a date.” 

She breezed past him and headed for the locker room. 

Carter grinned and shook her head. “She’s right, you know. And even though she’s temporarily on your team, she’s still a civilian and the military regs don’t apply. Enjoy yourself, sir. Have some fun. Logan’s full of it.” 

He put his head down and began unstrapping his own ordnance, still more than a little embarrassed, and thoroughly confused.

“She’s _full of it_ , all right,” he groused.

He went to his office to begin writing up his report, and at the appointed time headed for the conference room for debriefing.

Hammond was already there and waiting for him.

Jack closed the door after himself and took a seat at the table. 

“Uh, about that comment in the ‘gate room, sir…” 

Hammond grinned and shook his head. “Doctor Logan explained it to me already, Colonel. But watch your mouth in the future. That sort of thing can get you busted back to last year.” 

Jack’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Oh, she did, did she?” 

The door opened and the rest of the team strolled in, followed by Doctor S. Logan. 

She was wearing a short black dress that clung to her fit, womanly figure. Her long hair was down around her shoulders and she was wearing makeup. She was absolutely stunning for a woman her age, and Jack had to remember to close his mouth as she sat down. 

Logan’s eyes rolled up to meet his. “Does steak sound good to you, Jack? I’m starved.” 

It took him a beat, but he recovered his wits enough to dive into the plot. “Yeah. Just let me get cleaned up after we debrief.”

He managed to make it through the meeting without staring a hole through her, but her legs kept drawing his attention. And every time he caught himself looking, he cleared his throat. Hammond’s dismissal was a blessing, and Jack made sure that the water was ice cold when he hit the showers a few minutes later.

Once dressed in his civvies, he found Logan waiting outside the locker room, tapping her high-heeled foot. 

“Took you long enough,” she teased. “You’ve still got goosebumps from the cold water.” 

“Hey! You were the one with the legs up to your—“ He turned around and faced the wall, banging his head on it lightly a couple of times. “I’ve _got_ to stop that.” 

“You need a _date_ , O’Neill. Let’s go.” She hooked her arm in his and steered him toward the elevator, smiling as people passed them by with long looks that followed them until they were out of sight.

“Who’s driving?” she asked once they reached the parking lot. 

“My truck’s over there,” he pointed. “Where’s your ride?” 

She nodded at the Harley near the entrance to the mountain. “I’ve got an extra helmet, if you’re game.” 

“We’ll take the truck,” he decided, and steered her that way.

He helped her up, taking note how high her skirt rode up when she climbed up into the cab. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he took the long way around the back of the vehicle, halfway between fuming and trying to calm down before he got behind the wheel.

He strapped in and jammed the keys in the ignition, then dropped his hands to the seat. “This isn’t gonna work, Logan.” 

“We don’t actually have to _go_ on a date, O’Neill,” she assured him. “Just take me home, drop me off there and pick me up on your way in tomorrow morning. Date over, rumors fly, and you’re off the harassment hook.” 

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded. 

Those green eyes stared back at him from beneath a fan of thick black lashes, and he forgot what he’d been so upset about. 

“Because I don’t want you to be in trouble, Jack. It’s just that simple. It was a slip. No harm, no foul.” 

He watched her lips move as she spoke, and the sound of her voice rippled over his skin like warm velvet.

Without thinking, he unfastened his seatbelt and slid toward her.

“Then let’s make it look good, Logan,” he said huskily, and put his arm around her shoulders.

His mouth came down on hers, and his eyes closed.

He completely lost track of time during that kiss, and when it was over, he studied her for another moment before retaking his position behind the wheel. 

He drove off with his lips tingling and the taste of her on his tongue, and wondered why he’d never noticed she was so sexy as he tried to think where to take her for dinner. They ended up at Murphy’s Bar and Grille, sitting at a small table on the balcony. Once they’d placed their orders, silence fell between them, and they just stared at each other. 

“Now what?” he asked her. 

“Now comes the chit-chat part,” she announced with a devilish little smile. “This is the stuff you’re not good at, unless the subject is sports.” 

He nodded in agreement and reached for his beer. Maybe he could just leave the talking to her, and if she didn’t wander into geek territory, he might even listen.

“You realize this date is going to totally trash your reputation,” he advised. 

“I wasn’t aware I _had_ one.” 

“Oh, yeah. People generally think you’re a smart lady.” 

“And they’d be half right,” she teased. Her humor faded away quickly. Logan’s index finger started tracing little patterns on the wooden table. “Look, Jack, I don’t think anybody gives a shit about what we do in our free time. Nobody’s gonna think less of me for going out with you. That’s propaganda I don’t buy.” 

He shrugged and studied the other people in the restaurant. 

“Jack.” 

She demanded his attention, and got it. Her expression was serious. “When I first got here, I took you at face value. I thought you were arrogant and disrespectful. I thought you didn’t have the smarts to find your way out of a paper bag, though you had a wit that could kill at twenty paces. You were all surface and no substance, which is _exactly_ what you want people to believe about you.” 

“It’s all true,” he assured her. “I’m a mean son of a bitch—“ 

“No, you’re not.”

The gentleness in her tone made him meet her eyes. Her gaze was intense, burning a hole right through him. The woman had something she really wanted to say to him, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to listen.

He took another sip of his beer. 

“I’ve seen you with the children of base personnel, and I know enough about how the mind works to know that most human beings drop all pretense with children and show them who they really are. You’re a warm, caring man. You’re sensitive and tender. And _that’s_ the Jack O’Neill I’d like to get to know.” 

He studied his glass. The golden liquid was pretty, and it tasted good. But something inside him couldn’t hold onto the distraction of the beer, resonating with the truth of her statement.

“Sorry,” he returned slowly. “Jack O’Neill is currently unavailable for comment.” 

A slow smile spread over her face. “And you’re not the moron you’d have people believe, either,” she went on. “My teammates are all pilots, and they’ve told me about all the qualifications and skills you need to fly the Air Force’s expensive jets and experimental aircraft. I was impressed. So don’t give me the dumb soldier act anymore, okay, O’Neill? I _know_ better now. What’s your degree in, anyway? My money’s on aeronautical engineering.” 

He frowned at his glass. He sighed, realizing this gal had him pegged. “Yeah. One of ‘em.” 

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. Then she grinned. She relaxed into the booth seat and fiddled with her water glass. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody,” Logan promised. “Your secrets are safe with me.” 

“That’s comforting.” Her assessment bothered him. “So, when did I become so transparent?” 

“It happened one revelation at a time. But every time I learned something contrary to the image of Special Ops Guy you gave me when we first met, it shook me up. Generally I’m a pretty good judge of character, but you…” She sighed and shook her head. 

He risked a glance at her face.

She looked wistful. Hopeful. Maybe even happy. She toyed with her glass, and he noticed the way the soft light turned her eyes yellow. The crow’s feet around her eyes and the smile lines around her mouth disappeared, making her look much younger than she was. She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes half closed and aimed at the table, as if she were dreaming about something pleasant.

He thought she was beautiful, and the view stirred him. 

He tamped it down fast. 

“You’re not what I expected, O’Neill. It was quite a shock to discover you were someone I could trust.” Her eyes moved up to meet his. “And I _do_. I trust you with my life.” 

She was opening up to him.

He felt it, felt the need to respond. He _wanted_ what she was offering. There was an empty spot inside him, aching to be filled. But he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready. This was something so far out of his league she might as well be in the next galaxy. 

Their steaks arrived and conversation stopped with the appearance of the waiter. For a while they concentrated on their dinner, enjoying the meal. When it was over she brought up the subject of sports, letting their more intimate conversation lapse, unfinished. He paid the ticket and drove her home, walking her upstairs to her apartment door. 

“Do you want to come in?” she asked softly. 

He took her key and opened the door, stepping through after her.

There were few decorations hanging on the walls. Her apartment was small and decorated in simple Japanese style. It suited her – simple but beautiful. She dropped her keys on a small entry table and put her coat into a closet before turning back to him. 

“I’m not inviting you to spend the night,” she explained, “but if you’d like to talk more…” 

He filled his eyes with her, wanting nothing more than to take her into his arms and kiss her senseless. 

“I’ll pick you up at oh-seven-hundred,” he murmured. “Good night, Logan.” 

“Good night, O’Neill.” 

He turned away and stopped just outside her door. This time, when he asked the question, he hoped she’d answer with the truth. “So what’s the ‘S’ for?” 

“Satisfied,” she returned with a smile. “Thank you, Jack. I had a lovely time.” 

Her face was glowing. 

He wanted her. Knew it to his core. This one would be special. 

“See you in the morning,” he growled, and headed for the elevator.

When the doors closed him off from the building, he leaned his head and hands against the wall, clenching his teeth. Frustration and need warred within him. He smacked the wall with his right palm and straightened up. 

“You’re doing just fine without that kind of complication,” he reminded himself aloud, shrugging to resettle his coat on his shoulders. 

But as he lay in his bed that night, fantasies of what could be danced in his head and warmed him into dreams of sex and comfort such as he’d not had in a very long time.

 

* * *

 

 

**20 November**

Daniel sat at the big table, books, photos and papers spread out all around him. Across the table from him Doctor Logan sat with her own notes, reading aloud the transcription from the wall on PP2-908 while the video Daniel had made played on the computer screen in the conference room.

“We should give the meeting place a name,” he observed, twiddling his pencil between thumb and forefinger. 

“Any ideas?” Logan asked him, looking up from her journal. “Babylon? Mecca? You’ve called it Ernest’s planet for a while now.” 

“Which is why it needs a name. Ancients, Asgard, Furling, Nox. Maybe we could make an anagram of the names of the four races.” 

“Afan, Fana, Nafa, Anfa. Take your pick.” She shook her head, smiling. “DJ, are you—“ 

“I’m _fine!”_ he snapped impatiently. “And I wish people would quit asking me that.”

He glared at her. 

She sat back in her chair, reproach in her eyes.

“You’re a little short on patience these days, too, honey,” she observed, her tone still warm. “I was going to ask if you were sure you wanted to bother with a name. We could be applying our mighty brain power to much more important things than that.” 

Chagrinned, he glanced down at his notes. “Yeah. I know, and I’m sorry. Where were we?” 

She pulled the photos together. “We’ve got the wall we just visited on PXJ-272, the wall on PP2-908, and the writings from the Place of Legacy. Plus, if you want to include them, we also have the pedestal from that binary sun planet where Sam and her team were almost charbroiled. _I_ think they’re postcards from the edge.” 

Daniel rested his chin in his hand and thought about that. “Sort of ‘wish you were here’ kind of things?” 

“Yeah. Road markers for those who come after them.” 

He frowned. “Or maybe not. Maybe it’s something _else_. Didn’t you say that the message on the walls was identical except for the final symbol on each?” 

She glanced at the photos. “Yes. See? That’s actually four distinct symbols, one in each language.” 

“Have we identified what they mean?” 

Logan shook her head. “Still working on that. They’re not covered in the text Jack translated for us after his visit to the Place of Legacy. Obviously, that wasn’t intended as a dictionary, and doesn’t include every word of their language. Pity.” 

“Then we need to figure out what the symbols mean, or maybe find more of them and extrapolate some kind of pattern from that.” 

Logan nodded. “Maybe we need to be looking for more of those walls.” 

“Anything with the writings of the Four Races. Yes.” 

“Why don’t we put all the resources we have together with every example of the writings of the Four Races, and start going over all of that with a fine-toothed comb?” 

“Okay. I’ve got Doctor Littlefield’s journal in my office. That might have something more in it that we don’t have anywhere else. And I’ll check with Doctor Murphy in Archives to see if any of the other teams have brought back any additional samples we can use. I think it could be important, and worth our time to figure out.” 

“I agree. Let’s schedule another meeting in, say, a week? Do you want to bring in any of the other archaeologists or linguists to help on this?” 

“Aside from what help Doctor Murphy can give us, I think it’s a little early for that.” Daniel studied the photos again. “We’ll keep working on this as a spare-time project. Then if we come up with something promising, we’ll take it to the next level.” 

“Okay, DJ. It’s your show for the moment, but I think we’re onto something here. Good work.”

She rose from her chair and started gathering up her things. “I’ll get you copies of everything I’ve got so far, and I’ll expect the same from you.”

Glancing at her watch, she added, “I’ll send you a memo about the next meeting and see if you can fit it in your schedule.” 

He met her pale eyes. “My schedule’s pretty open at the moment, Logan. I don’t think they’ll be sending me off world for a while… if at all.” 

She pressed her lips together in a firm line and nodded. “Give it time, DJ. And if you need anything…” 

“I know. And thanks.” 

She gave him a long, sympathetic look. 

He looked at his research material as he assembled it into a pile, avoiding meeting her eyes.  “Logan, I know you came to see me a couple of times while I was in the infirmary, and I’m sorry I was rude.” 

“You weren’t rude, honey,” she corrected. “You were hurting. You still are. I can see it.” 

He nodded. “That may be a permanent condition. But, what I’m trying to say is, I appreciate your concern. Thank you.” 

“Our teams don’t always work closely together, Daniel, but—“ 

“Uh-oh,” he teased. “You called me _Daniel_. I must be in trouble.” 

Logan came around the table and gave him a warm hug. “Like I was saying, brat, there are a lot of us on the other SG teams who are really pulling for you.” 

She stepped back, her hand on his shoulder.  “I don’t think anyone who doesn’t go out there really has any concept of the stuff we go through.  But the teams, we’ve got a kind of family thing going. You know?” 

“So can I call you mom?” he teased, more lightheartedly than he felt. 

“You can if you want. Lieutenant Hernandez does.” She flipped her salt and pepper tresses over her shoulder and patted her head, flashing a smug smile. “I earned every one of these gray hairs. Some of ‘em even have _your_ name on them, sweetie.” 

“Uh, thanks, I think?” 

Logan sobered. “Just know that we care, DJ. That you’re important. Okay?” 

He glanced at the floor, then sadly back at her. “I get that a lot these days, too, Logan.” 

She stared at him for a moment, wheels turning behind her eyes. “Do you not need to hear it?” 

“Sometimes.  Just not in a constant stream.  Kinda makes me sick.” 

“Okay, point taken. I’ll lighten up.” She kissed his cheek. “Just let me know if you need to hear it again.” 

“I will.” He watched her leave and wished he could actually feel the love being sent out to him over the last few weeks. Then he packed up his materials, and returned to work in the quiet of his office, preparing to fly out and interview a potential new candidate for the ever-expanding exploration teams.

Research these days was a necessity, and additional minds, fresh perspectives, had become crucial to the process, whether behind the scenes in the labs or in the field.

And now that he was sidelined – hopefully temporarily – he would be handing more of the duties his post as head of the SGC academic department required. 

This was the boring stuff, but it, too, had to be done.

He checked his travel itinerary, made sure his schedule was cleared for the trip and that his assistant, currently heading up Archive management, would be ready to go with him.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel stepped into the newest underground room, recently dug out of the mountain by construction crews and carved into an enormous warehouse, complete with steel shelves. This would be where all the important artifacts and records would be catalogued and stored, a big job for someone to keep track of, but SGC had chosen well for the position of Archivist. 

Doctor Shannon Murphy had been one of the program’s most promising young minds, an archaeologist who had joined up early in the SGC’s infancy and was one of the original members of SG-4. She’d been on exactly one mission, and her team had brought a body back that everyone believed had been hers. Two years to the day later, she had returned through the Stargate alone, with no memory of where she’d been or what had happened to her during the missing time. 

The body that had been buried in her grave was exhumed and found to be in the same state as it had been when put into the ground, and studies had been done on it for years afterward. It was a perfect if lifeless replica of her, down to the DNA coding, only it wasn’t her. Closer examination showed engineering marks on cells and other anomalies that indicated the corpse had been manufactured specifically to fool them all into accepting her death. 

Daniel knew what that felt like. His own teammates watched him die when he hadn’t, when Nem had imprisoned him to solve a riddle and account for a history he couldn’t remember.

He’d made the effort once Murphy returned to help her transition back to normal life, but she had never been able to force herself to go back through the Stargate again.

Instead, she had transferred to Research and done an excellent job keeping track of all their finds, and maintaining order in records and artifacts and doing a brilliant job of coordinating all their research. 

But the SGC had run out of space after more than five years of exploration, and now they needed someplace really big to grow into – hence the new warehouse.

He cast about for Murphy and found her behind the first row of shelves, already filled with neatly catalogued boxes and crates, headphones covering her ears as she listened to music while she worked.

Shannon was dancing, hands swirling through the air, hips swaying, feet stepping rhythmically, eyes closed. Her long auburn hair swung around her shoulders, glinting with copper highlights in the bright overhead light. 

He almost smiled, bemused by her apparent immersion in the music. 

She made a little turn and opened her eyes, gasping as he seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Oh, Daniel, you startled me!” she breathed, hand to her chest. “I didn’t hear you come up.” 

There was just the slightest hint of Irish Gaelic accent to her speech, the result of growing up in Ireland, despite the fact that she was American. 

He pointed to his ear to indicate the headphones. “Yes, well, it’s no wonder. I can hear your music from here. What is that, Arabic?” 

She blushed and pushed the phones off her ears and onto her neck, turning the volume down on the CD player attached to her waist. “Actually, it’s Sting’s _Desert Rose_. Something modern for a change.”

Concern made her eyes sad. “How’ve you been, Daniel? I came to see you a few times, but Doctor Frasier said you weren’t taking visitors.” 

“I needed a break,” he answered flatly, trying not to be irritated by yet another expression of caring. “Listen, um, Shannon, I came to see if you could find some things for me. I thought I had Doctor Littlefield’s journal in my office, but I’ve turned the place upside down and it’s not there, so it must be in the archives somewhere.”

He glanced around at the boxes stacked all over the place, waiting to be sorted and shelved in the new storage area. “I went upstairs to the old library, but it looks like most of that’s all packed up.” 

“Yes. What’s not upstairs is here, waiting to be unpacked. Was that all you needed?” 

“The journal, and my videotape of that amazing room from PP2-908, if you come across it, but I may have it logged into my digital archive somewhere. I haven’t looked for it very hard yet. I was planning to start on the journal first. Also, any other artifact or photo that may show inscriptions of any of the languages of the Four Races. I figured you’d know best where all that stuff might be.” 

“I know where all the books are, so I’ll look for that journal right away, but I’ll need to run upstairs to check the computer log for its tag number. I’m not sure I remember what it looked like, but I’ll track it down and gather up everything else I can find.”

She touched her fingertips to his forearms, now crossed over his chest. “Daniel, I want you to know that I appreciate what you did for me after my… my homecoming. If I can do the same for you, an ear to listen, or just someone to fill an empty space for a while…” She shrugged. 

He hated that look on everyone’s faces, the sadness and worry. 

Out of habit, he reached up to push his glasses up on his nose, and poked himself right between the eyes. Anyone else would have laughed at the nervous gesture, but not Shannon. She stared him down with her haunted emerald eyes and waited for him to respond. 

“Thanks. I’ll remember that.” He licked his lips, trying to think of something else to say. 

She nodded, and the worried expression vanished, replaced by cool professionalism. “And I’ll find the journal for you as quickly as I can.”

Glancing around and lifting her hands to indicate the sizeable room, she added, “Just be aware,  it may take a while. I should be able to narrow it down to one or two boxes just from memory, but there’s still a lot in each one. The other things may take a while, maybe a couple of weeks, since I’m moving things around in the new space.” 

“Okay. Maybe I can come down and help you look later.” 

She smiled and nodded. “That would be fine. Whenever you have the time. I’ll just go look up that designation now, so you won’t have to wait long for the journal.” 

“I’d appreciate it. And don’t forget – we’re flying out to Boston tomorrow for that interview with Doctor Overstreet. It should be a day trip, but take an overnight bag, just in case.”

He started back the way he had come while she repositioned her headphones, gathered up a clipboard she’d been writing on, and followed him to the elevator. 

He stood silently in the car as it traveled up the shaft, the woman behind him lost in her music and dancing just out of sight.

If he turned his head slightly he could see her out of his peripheral vision without signaling that she was being watched.

Something about her nagged at him, but he didn’t want to think about women at that moment.

 

* * *

 

 

 ** _Somewhere in Space_**

_“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,”_ Osiris purred as she sat on the golden couch. The view outside the space station was spangled with the same stars that had seen the previous summit of the System Lords.

This time, each of them had come with a contingent of their personal guards, and the audience hall was very nearly filled.

Eight chairs sat in a circle in the center of the room, all facing one another. 

_“You said there was important news,”_ Ba’al reminded her, stroking his dark goatee idly. 

_“There is,”_ she assured him with a regal nod of her blonde head. _“Lord Anubis is a prisoner of the Tau’ri.”_

She wasted no time or words with the announcement, and was pleased by the startled looks all around.

 _“He was a fool.”_ She smiled. _“But there is much to do yet. The Tauri may well think themselves invulnerable to the System Lords, but I am not one of you. Yet.”_

Osiris let that last word sink in before continuing. _“I am not subject to your treaty with the Asgard, but it is my intention to carry out Lord Anubis’s plan, and destroy the Tau’ri to obtain entrance into your circle.”_

_“It is a worthy plan,”_ Bastet agreed with a nod of her dark head. _“But how will you accomplish it?”_

_“I have means.”_ Osiris scanned each face, reading the emotions her fellow gods projected. There was greed, relief, boredom and interest _. “But to accomplish this task, it will take more than a simple strike by one ha’tak, no matter how well armed.”_

_“We cannot offer you assistance, either with soldiers or ships, lest we violate our treaty with the Asgard,”_ Kali reminded her. _“How would you have us help?”_

Osiris studied that one, aware that this was not the Kali the other System Lords believed her to be. She was disappointed the new Kali hadn’t agreed to help fulfill Anubis’ plan. 

_“The face of the universe will soon be changing_ ,” Osiris assured them. _“You will each be in need of a great many ships and massive armies with which to wage conquest. I would suggest that you begin arming yourselves now, and when I visit each of you again, you may tell me how much your strength has been increased.”_ She chuckled softly. _“Of course, I will not expect you to tell me all your secrets; only what you are prepared to contribute to a war to control all the known universe, which will come quickly on the heels of the annihilation of Earth.”_

“ _You make great claims,”_ Lord Yu observed sagely. “ _Can you support them?”_

Osiris rose. _“I have a gift for you all,”_ she declared. _“Even now, my crews stand prepared to board your ships and install a new weapon, one that will disable an opponent’s shields… including shields of Asgard design. I give you this as a token of my fealty, and a marker to show my intention to become a System Lord in place of Anubis. Soon we will have the ability to wage war not only on the Tau’ri, but on the Asgard themselves.”_

Their surprise was expected, and warmed Osiris. _“I shall fulfill the promises of Anubis, and take his place among the System Lords, but not until we are ready to destroy the Asgard. Build your armies, my brothers and sisters. Soon, there will be none in all creation who can stand against us.”_

She strode to the center of the circle. _“I will come to you, each in turn. Use the time wisely to harvest troops and build all the ships and weapons you can. And when we gather next, we will rule supreme, with none to stand against us, not man nor god. And the Tau’ri will be no more.”_

For a moment, silence reigned. 

_“What of the prophecy?”_ asked Bastet. 

Osiris’s smile failed. “ _The Tejennan prophecy?”_

The Goa’uld queen nodded gravely _. “It states that, when we are at our height of power, the day of judgment will come.”_

_“Anubis confided in me that he had a plan for that as well. Even now, we seek the Shetat, and when we discover his identity, we shall kill him.”_ Osiris smiled confidently, her chin held high. 

_“In this task alone, we will give you any help you wish,”_ Ba’al assured her. _“We cannot risk the spread of this legend. Even less can we tolerate the presence of one who lays claim to the title.”_

_“Agreed,”_ Osiris promised firmly. _“The Mandanu will be destroyed, by the hand of the Goa’uld, as soon as he is known.”_

The seven stood, exchanging glances, and followed Osiris out of the meeting hall.

She escorted them personally back to their ships and oversaw the installation of the new devices.

Once they were ready, she called for one of her pilots to fly in a ship that had been stolen from the Asgard, and blew it out of the sky as an eloquent demonstration of her power.

Knowing the others as she did, she knew they would not trust her word alone, nor would they attempt to test the new device on an Asgard ship.

It would simply lie in wait, an extra weapon that might never be used. 

But Osiris had seen it in action, and understood what this gift would buy her. 

It was the first step toward conquering of the System Lords, as the supreme god of all creation.

_And she could hardly wait to get there._

 

* * *

 

**_Stargate Command_ **

**_Earth_**

Voicemail messages had been piling up in his lengthy absence, and as Daniel returned to his office he decided it was time to clear them out. He retrieved a notepad and began to play them back. Most were get-well wishes received in the last few weeks.  He listened to all of them just to make sure there wasn’t a business-type message included, and then deleted them. 

_“Hey, Daniel, it’s David Archer.”_ The machine played back the recorded message, and he listened with a frown, checking the calendar for the date. Six years, and David had never missed calling on that day. _“I saw your flowers on Shannon’s grave. Thanks for those. I really appreciate you remembering.”_

Daniel _hadn’t_ remembered until he got the call. It was an automatically scheduled delivery debited to his credit card, but David didn’t need to know that. He only talked to the guy a few times a year anyway, and then more for Shannon’s sake than for any real friendship that might have been formed at her funeral. 

The message continued. “ _You’re a hard guy to catch, but I wanted to let you know some good news for a change. After five years of trying, Christie’s pregnant! She’s due in March around Shannon’s birthday, and if it’s a girl, Christie’s agreed to name her Shannon. That’s pretty generous for a wife living in another woman’s shadow.”_

A noise nearby made him look up. His mouth dropped open and he stood up. He tried to hit the button on the phone to disconnect the voicemail, but it was too late.

Shannon Murphy stared back at him with tears in her eyes as she laid Doctor Littlefield’s notebook on his desk and turned away. 

_“Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and that we’re doing great. Come see us next time you’re in LA. Bye.”_

Daniel rounded the desk and stepped between Shannon and the door. “Hey,” he said gently, trying to think of something appropriately soothing to say to her. “Um…” 

“It’s okay, Danny,” she told him huskily. A tear streaked from the corner of her eye across her cheek. “He’s married. He always wanted to be a father. But try to talk him out of that name, next time to you talk to him, okay?” She sighed brokenly. “I’m just glad he’s happy.” 

She bowed her head and dodged past him, ducking out the door quickly, and all but running by the time she reached the corridor. 

He sighed. There just wasn’t enough of him left to offer comfort to someone else in pain. He returned to the desk and deleted the message, then went on to the next in the queue. 

Two hours later, a stack of books in his arms, he met Teal’c in the hallway outside the Orientation Room. The big guy opened the door for him, and he set the books on the desk. With a glance at the fresh faces filling the classroom, he wondered idly how many of these new recruits would make it to the field.

And how many would survive their first year of ‘gate travel. 

He turned around, picked up a chalk and wrote the name of a well-used text on the board, and then turned to address the class. 

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Veritas 101. I’m Doctor Daniel Jackson. Anybody heard of me?” 

Several hands went up. 

He offered a tight smile. “Did the reference have the word ‘crackpot’ added to it?” 

Guilty looks on those same faces were answer enough. 

“Well, I hope you all have open minds, because that’s what got you here in the first place—that and demonstration of talent in the various fields in which you excel. I’ll ask you all to remember the confidentiality agreement you signed before we let you in the mountain, so that, if you wash out of the program, you still can’t tell anybody about it. And that means your wife or husband, mom or dad, the closest people to you in the world. Nobody knows what we do here, because it’s a matter of the survival of the human race, way more important than mere national security.” 

That got their attention. Some still looked guilty; others a little uneasy. A couple on the front row – probably overflowing with attitude – appeared a bit bored. He took note of the nametags issued at the front gate, and committed the names Overstreet and Devereaux to memory. 

He pointed to the author’s name on the board. “Anybody got Budge’s texts in their research library?” 

Hands lifted all over the room. 

Daniel reached under the desk for the trashcan and set it on top.

“Bring ‘em if you got ‘em. If they’re at home, throw ‘em away on your own time. He’s useless.”

He glanced at Teal’c, standing at parade rest beside the desk and gave him a nod.

The Jaffa nodded back.

They had been through this routine dozens of times, and each had his part down pat. Holding his right hand out to indicate the man beside him, Daniel continued. “I’d like to introduce a friend of mine. His name is Teal’c, and before you start searching your minds for a likely ethnic origin for that name, I’ll tell you flat out you won’t find one in any culture you’ve studied, because Teal’c isn’t a human being.” 

The cocky guys on the front row grinned and suppressed a little laughter. Smiles spread all over the room. 

Without looking at his friend, Daniel knew Teal’c would be removing the stocking cap covering his gold tattoo. 

“Teal’c is from a planet called Chulak,” Daniel continued. “His people are called the Jaffa, and except for a handful of rebels we support, they are slaves of alien creatures called the Goa’uld.” He spelled it for them on the board, enunciating it clearly rather than glossing over it as he usually did. 

“There are aliens,” one of the front row jockeys returned dryly, “and this guy’s one of them? Can you prove it?” 

Daniel ignored his challenge, knowing that Teal’c would already be pulling the hem of his T-shirt out of his trousers. Had this exchange been scripted, it couldn’t have been more in rhythm.

“The Goa’uld are parasites,” Daniel went on, “incubated within the Jaffa, who, in exchange for this service to the larval young, receive perfect health and long life. They are the army with which the Goa’uld wish to dominate the universe, including our own world.” 

Teal’c pulled his shirt off over his head and raised one eyebrow as the freshmen ogled him. They all saw the X-shaped pouch, but didn’t understand its significance, not yet. 

“ _This_ is what the Goa’uld look like,” Daniel announced, extending his right hand toward the man beside him to draw their attention back to his visual aid. 

Opening the pouch, Teal’c coaxed the larva to show itself briefly. 

The room gasped as one. Daniel watched the two young men on the front row, saw the color leach out of their faces. A guy with glasses in the back row leaned over and threw up on the floor. 

Daniel ignored that. 

“The adults take a host by entering through the back of the victim’s neck, leaving a scar like this.” He turned his back to the class, reaching up under his hair and lifting the long fall upward.

This was something he’d never done in these lectures before, and wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.

But these kids needed to know what they were up against.

They needed to know how serious all this was.

As he turned back to face his audience, he switched on the voice alternator he used in training exercises when a fake Goa’uld voice was necessary. “And this is what they sound like.”

He made sure they saw him switch the unit off. “I was a host for a period of about eight days to one of the Goa’ulds. He went by the identity of Anubis, god of the dead.” 

A tide of murmurs began to circulate through the room. 

Hands came up in question. 

He ignored them, searching his notes, and stood up when he found the reference. “Anubis had lived for thousands of years in the bodies of several hosts, some human, some of other alien races. While the symbiote lives within your body, you have no control over what you say or do. You will be helpless witness to rape, murder, torture and cruelty beyond anything you can imagine. I know, because it happened to me.” 

Daniel’s voice grew deeper as he fought to control his emotions. He felt tears fill his eyes as he saw the death of innocence in their eyes. He was sorry for what they were losing, but this was a necessity. 

“Once the Goa’uld take a host, they can’t be removed by traditional means, like surgery,” he explained, hating the husky, emotional tone in his voice. “There are a few devices built by other races that can disintegrate the creature and leave the host intact, which is what saved me.”

He hesitated, remembering. “I lost my wife to one of these creatures several years ago. I’ve lost friends to them, people I worked with here at the SGC for the last six years. I’ve seen entire worlds destroyed—“ 

His voice failed him as memories of worlds he had never seen burst into flame. 

Teal’c sidled up closer, now dressed again and tucking in his shirttail. He spoke softly, so no one could hear but Daniel.

“Are you all right, Daniel Jackson?” The Jaffa’s large hand settled warmly on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. 

The archaeologist nodded. “I’ll make it,” he murmured, though he wasn’t at all sure he would. 

Daniel steeled himself to raise his eyes to meet those of the new recruits. After a moment, he got his voice under control and continued his lecture.

“The Goa’uld have spaceships that can travel vast distances in the blink of an eye. They have weapons of such power that we can never hope to defeat them without the discovery of some technology of equal power. We’ve been searching for that now for years, and have as yet come up with little.

“Still, we have made allies, powerful friends such as the Asgard and the Nox, whom you will read about over the next few weeks as you prepare to join us in humanity’s greatest quest ever. We continue to search and toward that end, and because of that dire need, we have an ever-expanding need for fresh minds willing to undertake this journey.” 

He paused, taking note of the change in the expressions of those who sat before him. They were serious now, contemplative, and they were afraid.

That was good.

They would need that fear to keep them sharp. 

“What we’re doing here is dangerous. It costs a lot of lives. If you look at the person next to you, chances are that, within your first year of going out into the field, every third person in this room will be dead, or worse. And there are much, _much_ worse things than being dead. Trust me on that.” 

He picked up the trashcan and set it back on the floor beside the desk.

This was the easy part

“What we’re doing is also some of the most exciting stuff you’ll ever do in any lifetime. You’ll walk on worlds all over the galaxy and meet real live aliens. Some look like us and even speak our languages. Others are...”

He though of the pale, naked aliens and their symbiotic plants that had so stymied him once upon a time.

“Others are _wildly_ different from us. There are plants and animals that defy classification out there. You’ll have a hard time going to sleep some nights, trying to get your mind to shut off long enough to rest because this stuff—“

He found himself smiling as more images cascaded through his mind. “—the things we do here are like nothing you can experience anywhere on Earth. Not even in video games.” 

He sobered, remembering. “But Earth... our home... our species, that’s what this is all about. In the middle of the incredible journey you’re about to undertake, you’ll find that the things we hold most precious, most fascinating... They’re all right here.” 

A knock sounded on the door and he turned to spare a glance at Logan as she poked her head in the doorway. “Hey, boss man, sorry to interrupt, but can I have a couple minutes of your time during lunch break? I need help with that project we’re working on.” 

Daniel gestured toward her and faced the class. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Doctor Logan, my number two in the academic department. If you have questions – and you will – relating to Asian cultures or languages, or any of the aboriginal cultures in the South Pacific, please see Doctor Logan.” 

The newbies started writing, and Daniel went on.

“For African tribal cultures, Doctor Albert Ndele in the SGC Library is your man. For Celtic or New World aboriginal cultures, Doctor Shannon Murphy in Archives is the person to see. Though she and Doctor Ndele aren’t technically part of the academic department, they support us with research assistance and organization, so make use of what’s available here and don’t go to outside sources. If you’re looking at questions regarding Egypt and ancient European cultures, those are my areas of expertise.”

He met Logan’s eyes and gave her a nod. 

She offered a little wave and smile to the class. “Hi, everybody. Fasten your seatbelts.” 

“Lunch at twelve, Logan?”  
  
”See you in the commissary, DJ.” She disappeared from the doorway, a chuckle following in her wake. 

Remembering when the older woman was one of those fresh-faced innocents, Daniel shook his head and smiled.

Logan was the only one who had ever laughed during the orientation, stood up and declared, “I _knew_ it! Damn, I’m good.”

He’d never quite gotten over her ebullience, and had liked her right away. 

Daniel stood up and moved around behind the desk, turning on a slide carousel as Teal’c headed for the door on cue, turning off the lights on his way out.

 “Now, this slide show is for information purposes only,” he informed them. “I’ll go over the highlights briefly, but there will be no Q and A until next class. I’ll expect you to do your reading assignments in a hurry, so that you don’t have to pump me for information you should be getting from your texts. There are Goa’uld language tapes in the base library that I’ll expect you all to check out and learn fluently within the next month. Is that understood?” 

One of the young men in the front row raised his hand, his expression now contrite. “Doctor Jackson?” 

“Yes, Doctor Overstreet?” Daniel pressed the button to show a slide of the inactive Stargate. 

“Doesn’t it bother you that the rest of the academic community thinks you’re a joke?” He blushed hard. 

Daniel chuckled.

This young man had potential, and Doctor Jackson looked forward to many challenges from his sharp mind.

“Not anymore, son. I know I was right. Everyone at the SGC knows I was right. And my ‘crackpot’ theories have been instrumental in helping these brave soldiers save our planet on more than one occasion. I’ve learned to tolerate the academic community laughing at me out of ignorance, because the opinions that matter are all _right here_ in this building.”

He pointed to the ceiling. “And out there. The name Daniel Jackson doesn’t exactly strike fear into the hearts of our enemies, but SG-1 is definitely on a lot of hit lists out there, and I’m responsible for part of that. I can deal with ignorance on my world.” 

He inclined his head toward the white screen pulled down beside the chalkboard at the front of the room. “Now, if you’ll all face front, we’ll start with your primer on extraterrestrial travel and culture...” 

Doctor Jackson was in his element there, instructing these recruits in the brief history of Stargate Command and what they had to look forward to in being a part of Area 52. Part of him enjoyed these infrequent training classes, but every time he taught one, he knew it was because enough of the field personnel had been killed off that replacements were necessary. This was a class of almost twenty new faces, some of them ones he’d contacted personally; others he had simply become acquainted with through their dossiers and the papers they had published.

All of the seasoned experts – including the military – were constantly on the lookout for potential new recruits to the cause. 

This time, however, everything was different.

This time, other memories fought to surface as he saw the slide show he had prepared and talked about the old gods and ancient cultures he had seen with his own eyes.

This time, his perspective was from one who had lived it, whispering in the shadows of his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

The office was dark, except for a small lamp on the desk.

 Daniel’s hand shook as he wrote. He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, fighting back tears as he jotted down the images in the new journal. Its cover was plain and black, and it had a lock on it – not enough of one to foil anyone truly interested in its contents, but enough to stop someone casually rifling through his things. 

_I hate them all,_ he wrote _. It is my fondest wish to destroy all of them, those like me and those who host us, willing or not. Somewhere out there in the great universe, my youngest children have acquired hosts and taken up their mother’s cause against the Goa’uld. I wonder now if the Tok’ra will pay me homage as their father, or repudiate me for my sins.  
_

_Still, I do not care. I am wounded beyond recovery. All light has gone out of my being, and I am consumed with darkness. What I felt for Egeria burns within me, a constant, unending source of pain._

_That flame will not go out until there is nothing left to burn.  
_

A sound made Daniel look up. He couldn’t see whose face it was with the light shining behind him in the doorway, his face cast in shadow, but he knew who it was from the familiar silhouette.

He shut and locked the book quickly, stuffing it into his desk drawer.

His hands went to his hair as he leaned over the desk, running his fingers through it nervously. 

“What do you want, Jack?” he rasped, knowing the other man had seen what he was doing. 

“What’s that all about? You’re not left-handed.” The Colonel came fully into the room, hitting the overhead light switch as he stepped through the door. 

Daniel shrugged. “Romani’s idea. He wants me to keep a journal of Anubis’s thoughts. Says it’ll be therapeutic, which I truly doubt. And I still don’t know if I’m going to let him or anybody else read it.” 

“So you have to write down all the things you can remember about him? Is that how the deal works?” 

“Yeah. Something like that.” He sighed and opened the drawer, taking the journal out again and staring at it. “Things I’d rather forget.” 

“No kiddin’.” Jack stood on the far side of the desk, hands in pockets. “Look, I just came to tell you I’ll be out for a couple days. Gotta do some flight time. You wanna come with, maybe take a ride in the jet? I’m sure I can get permission.” 

Daniel understood that his CO was reaching out, trying to be a friend. “Thanks, but I’ve got this report I’ve been working on that I should get finished. Lots of people will be interested in it.” 

“Okay. Catch ya later, then.”

Jack shifted on his feet for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say something else, then turned and headed for the door. He shut the lights off on his way out, returning the room to its former dimness. 

Daniel stared at the journal. He put it carefully back in the drawer and returned to working on his report instead, his inspiration momentarily gone.

 

**_Reproduction of the Goa'uld_ **

_For the most part, the Goa’uld are a dying race because of the scarcity of sexed members. By and large, the majority of the population is sexless, comparable to the worker bees in a hive. The sexed members seem to be the ones that rise rapidly to power in the community; i.e., the System Lords. Queens are rare, but sexed males seem to be even rarer. Ra and Anubis were both in this category, as were Osiris and Apophis. Ba’al, Olokun and Lord Yu presumably are also. Of the queens we know to exist, Hathor seems to have been highest ranking, followed by Bastet and one called Egeria, about whom we have little information other than Earth legend. She spawned only once, and hid her young from Anubis and Ra. This one spawning was the creation of the Tok’ra, who had no sexed members to continue their race.  
_

_The queens also seem to be able to make the most of fertilization. There are parallels in some species of Earth animals where a single fertilization can last through several breeding cycles. Either the pregnancies are put on hold until conditions for survival are optimized, or else the male seed is stored and used as necessary to continue reproduction. This comes from the rarity of sexed members in their natural environment, and the scarcity of opportunities to breed. They had to make the most of whatever occasion brought them together, apparently.  
_

_Fertilization occurs among hosted symbiotes through a process in which the hosts engage in prolonged kissing, allowing the symbiotes to uncoil and reach each other’s sexual organs without leaving their hosts or losing control of them. Delivery of the intended host’s DNA to ensure compatibility is accomplished either with oral copulation (which is less work for the queen to retrieve) or in the traditional manner for our species. Hathor seemed to enjoy the latter means of collection more, even though it was more difficult for her to retrieve the human seed so that rejection of the host would not be a factor.  
_

_All this points to the fact that the Goa’uld as a species are losing the ability to procreate—_

Daniel stood up, hands trembling and moving nervously through his hair. He rubbed at the back of his neck, touched the scar and began to pace.

Hathor’s violation of his body surged through him anew. Though he’d been somewhat willing under the influence of the pheromones she used to control him, part of his consciousness had fought back, resisting her rape of his person.

That wasn’t the first time he’d been abused, and memories of his first foster father seared his consciousness. 

He felt his insides clenching, felt the need to scream welling up inside him, but that wasn’t the place.

People would come running, and he would have to explain.

 He couldn’t fall apart there, not when everyone thought he was doing so well. 

“Daniel Jackson, are you all right?” 

Teal’c’s voice was gentle and warm. 

Daniel saw the Jaffa meander slowly into the room.

He couldn’t answer, couldn’t make his voice work, and shook his head.

Tears were filling his eyes, and he knew he must have looked like a mess, which he was. 

Teal’c moved purposefully toward him and stopped toe to toe. Those big, dark eyes were barely visible in the semidarkness, and there was almost no expression on his stoic face. Then he reached out and pulled Daniel into his arms and held him. 

“You are strong, Daniel Jackson,” he murmured against the other man’s hair. “You will survive this torment, because you must. Because you are _necessary_. And because you are _loved_.” 

That gentle evidence of affection was Daniel’s undoing. His self control cracked, and he let it go willingly, burying his face against Teal’c’s shirt and sobbing his heart out. He clutched at the big man’s shoulders as if he was a life preserver… because that’s exactly what he was, and Daniel knew it. 

Drained and weary, Daniel eventually moved away when the tears subsided and patted his friend on the back. “Thanks. I needed that.” 

“I know,” Teal’c returned softly. “The others do not truly understand what the Goa’uld are capable of, Daniel Jackson. I have seen their atrocities, even carried them out, but even I cannot fully comprehend the terrible things you must endure, as part of the legacy of Anubis. This frightens me, my friend. I would offer you my strength whenever you need it. And know that I would gladly bear this burden for you, if I could.” 

Daniel nodded. “I know, Teal’c, and thank you. Thank you for being my friend.”

He pulled a tissue from the box on his desk, wiped his face and blew his nose on it. He stared down at the desk, unable to look at his computer monitor and the report he’d been writing.

He didn’t know what else to say, momentarily lost within himself.

When he turned around to somehow try to convey that to Teal’c, the Jaffa was already gone, understanding without words and disappearing in silence. 

That was so Teal’c: there when he was most needed, gone when he was not. 

“What a priceless friend you are,” Daniel whispered to the empty room.

The corners of his mouth softened slightly, but no smile came.

There was too much pain for that.

* * *

 

#####   **24 November**

Teal’c ambled silently down the corridor, on his way back to his room from the gym. He heard a soft slap followed by a muffled curse in Goa’uld, and knew instantly who had uttered it. He retraced his footsteps and rounded the corner, coming face to books with Daniel Jackson. 

The man had an armload of volumes stacked from his fingertips to just beneath his chin, and his journal had somehow slipped out of the stack and fallen to the floor. He was busy trying to juggle the stack and retrieve the journal, and appeared about to lose the entire column. 

“May I be of assistance, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c asked. 

“Yeah. That would be great,” the scholar replied hesitantly, still balancing. 

Teal’c reached down and retrieved the journal, slid it on top of the stack beneath his chin, and then took half the books into his own hands. 

Daniel let out a gasp of relief. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back to my office with all that.” 

With a nod, Teal’c followed him to his office and set the books on the floor beside the desk, just next to the other stack Daniel had been carrying.

“You are here late tonight, Daniel Jackson,” he observed. 

Shrugging, Daniel took a seat behind the desk. “Keeps my mind occupied.” He looked up into his visitor’s face. “What are you up to, tonight? Got any big plans?” 

Teal’c smiled a little as he thought ahead. “It is Monday night. I have a date.” 

Daniel’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “You have a d—uh, a _date_? With whom?” 

“Doctor Shannon Murphy and I spend our Monday evenings together when I am not off-world,” he explained. “She is collecting tales and legends of the Jaffa, which I relate to her in my quarters.” 

The human’s face fell. “Oh. I thought maybe you meant you had a ‘date.’ But if it’s with Shannon, I know it’s exactly what you said it was.” 

That was confusing. “Did you believe I intimated something else?” 

“W-well, yeah. I thought maybe… like, a girlfriend. Y’know. Sex and stuff.”

His glance upward was filled with guilt and embarrassment. “That was why I was so surprised. I know how you feel about your wife and didn’t think you’d… you know… with anyone else.” 

Suddenly, the other man’s confusion became clear. “I understand. And you are correct in that I do not wish intimacy with anyone but Drey’ac.” He paused. “Human women are far too confusing.” 

“Ain’t _that_ the truth.” Daniel picked up a couple of books from the stacks on the floor. “Tell Shannon I’d like to take a look at what she’s got collected sometime. I’m sure it’s way cool stuff.” 

“She believes it is,” Teal’c assured him. “I will tell her you are interested.”

He bowed slightly, aware that Daniel Jackson was about to delve into research.

The Jaffa knew how much the man enjoyed his work, and was reminded of a question that Shannon Murphy had asked him the previous week, during their viewing of _Wormhole Extreme!_ He watched the human work for a moment, and wondered. 

Daniel looked up at him. “Something on your mind, Teal’c?” 

“If we were no longer at war and there was no longer a need for my services,” he asked hesitantly, “in what occupation might you envision me, Daniel Jackson?” 

Those blue eyes shifted in thought. Daniel’s mouth drew up tightly as he pondered the question. Then his brows drew downward and he cocked his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought of you as anything but…”

He sat up straight and made intense eye contact. “That’s a really good question, Teal’c. What do _you_ think you’d like to do?” 

“That is what Shannon Murphy asked me. I had no answer for her then, and after many days’ consideration, I still do not know. I have always been a warrior. I know nothing else.” 

“Do you want to? I mean, in the event that we _do_ get some sort of a reprieve, what would you like to do? Maybe you could take up a hobby or something, instead of spending all your spare time training or meditating.” A soft grin quirked at the corners of Daniel’s mouth. “Or fishing with Jack.” 

“I would appreciate any suggestions for activities to explore,” Teal’c returned. “You know me well enough to have a better grasp of such things than others might.” 

“I’ll give it some thought,” he promised. 

Teal’c gave him a slight bow of acknowledgement and left as the other man turned to his studies. He pondered that subject all the way to his quarters, but when his guest arrived, he put it aside to enjoy the television program with her.

During the commercials, he ruminated on what story to tell afterward, and spent a pleasant evening in the company of a good friend.

 

* * *

 

 

**25 November**

For three nights in a row, Daniel had chosen the noisy city nightlife over the quiet of his home. Something about the energy in the room drew him – all those bodies churning to the beat of the too-loud music, the smell of sweat and perfume and hormones making him feel alive. He pressed to the bar and ordered his usual. Squeezing himself against the wall at the end of the bar where his back would be protected, he surveyed the scene. 

Watching made him feel almost predatorial, but he never interacted with any of the women – or men – who made him offers, just looking through them as if they weren’t there.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, there was someone on the dance floor that he recognized. 

He watched Doctor Shannon Murphy with disbelief and hunger in his heart. Her movements were sensual, alluring, but try as he might, he saw no partner on the floor for her. She danced alone, oblivious of the other people surrounding her. Eyes closed, she did not notice the audience she claimed, all of those surrounding her watching her sexy movements and doing their best to copy them. 

“She’s hot, isn’t she?” 

Daniel turned to the man who had slipped closer to his perch, half turned toward the floor where he could look left and see Shannon, or look right into Daniel’s eyes.

He stared right back, hoping the warning in his expression was clear enough. 

The man was not the least bit put off. He grinned conspiratorially and leaned closer so he wouldn’t have to shout to be heard above the music. “Wanna take her home tonight?” 

Daniel didn’t reply, just continued to stare him down. 

“She comes here almost every night,” the stranger went on. “Dances like crazy, stops by the bar when she’s thirsty, and then she leaves alone. I can fix it so she’ll be leaving with you, if you want.” 

Something sinister and sleazy about the man pricked Daniel’s attention. If the guy made the same proposal to any other man that night, it could certainly put Shannon at risk.

He decided to play along.

“What’s the deal?” He pulled out his wallet and opened it enough to show that there was plenty of paper money inside. 

Sleazeball grinned widely. He reached into his pants pocket and produced a small vial of clear liquid, which he discreetly showed off. “When she orders her drink, I distract her and you pour this in. Then you go out on the dance floor with her and keep her company for, say, half an hour. Long enough for it to start working. You take her home, do what you want with her, and she don’t remember nothin’ in the morning.” 

“Rohipnal,” Daniel guessed, vaguely recalling a bulletin he’d received a year or so back, warning all the SGC people about the date-rape drug. He studied the vial. Then he smiled at the man.

“I’ll buy all you’ve got on you. In fact, I’d be willing to pay handsomely for a steady supply.” 

Sleazeball looked startled. “What’re you gonna do, lock her up in your basement or something?” 

Daniel shook his head.“How much?”

He paid the man, took possession of the drugs, and turned his attention back to Shannon. 

“You gonna do her?” the guy asked. 

“Not tonight,” Daniel answered, downed the last of his drink and pushed past the scumbag toward the woman in the middle of the floor. He recognized the thumping beat of Dirty Vegas’s hit, _Days Go By,_ and as he stepped into the narrow space around Shannon, he realized he was drunk.

The room was spinning, but he didn’t care if he fell down. 

He closed his eyes and pictured snatches of tribal dances he knew. The music throbbed inside him like an extra heartbeat, and he started to move. It was exhilarating, and soon he lost conscious awareness of what he was doing, drawing strictly on instinct to guide his movements. He wheeled around her like a flying bird, stomped to the beat like thundering buffalo, leaped in the air like a light-footed coyote.

He changed the movements to fit the segue of one song into the next, energy rising inside him like a fountain. 

Rage and pain flowed out of his pores. Grief and sadness shook him, and somewhere in the mix as his emotions shifted, he realized how good he felt, how powerful, filled with magic. He opened his eyes, standing still now to catch his breath, and found himself staring straight into those familiar emerald eyes, looking right back at him. 

Shannon stared at him, breathless and panting. They stood a foot apart, magnetism flowing between their bodies. He stepped closed and reached for her, grasping a lock of her hair just as she whirled back into the dance. Her hair slipped through his fingers, and he took up the pursuit across the floor as she spun and dodged into and out of the crowd.

He went after her, always a half step behind, until she turned on him again, eyes wide, lips parted. 

His hands cupped the air on either side of her face as his heart thundered in his chest.

He was aroused. He was intoxicated. His body wanted to mate, but his mind did not. He leaned close as if to kiss her, and she stood still, waiting.

Her eyes closed. 

The storm of emotions crashed into his psyche and it was all he could do to keep from screaming. 

Daniel bolted from the dance floor, hitting the front door at a dead run, pounding the pavement all the way to his motorcycle.

He jammed the keys into the ignition and kick-started it, but before he could back out of the parking lot, someone called his name.

He turned to see Shannon standing there, barring his escape route with her body. 

“Wait, Daniel! You’re drunk. You’ve got no business driving, especially on that thing, and with no helmet.” 

He turned to face the wall in front of his motorcycle, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to get past her. He switched off the machine and handed over his keys, his heart still pounding.

She took them and laid a hand on his arm, worry in her eyes. 

“Are you okay, Danny? You look like hell.” 

“Oh, gee, thanks, Shannon! That’s a real pick-me-up.” 

She hugged him briefly. 

He didn’t reciprocate. 

“Look, I owe you one – Actually, I owe you a lot, so nobody’s going to hear about this from me. Let me talk to the bouncer to make sure your ride will be all right here overnight, and I’ll drive you home in my car. We can talk on the way.” 

“I don’t wanna talk.” 

“Okay. But I’m not leaving you alone till I’m sure you’re safe at home. Got it?” 

He hung his head, realizing there was no good way out of this.

“Yes, ma’am.” He heaved a defeated sigh as she walked off. Dutifully, he staggered after her to her car. 

She steered him to a Volvo sedan and insisted that he buckle his seat belt before she started the car. He gave directions to his apartment and checked out, staring out the windows as she drove, the music still pounding in his skull.

When they arrived, she walked him up and went in with him.

He headed straight for the bathroom. 

“I’m just gonna take a shower,” he told her.

But the first thing he did behind the privacy of the bathroom door was swallow one of the vials of liquid, hiding the empty container in the bottom of the trashcan. The rest of the tranquilizers he hid in the back of a drawer.

Then he undressed and got into the water, soaping himself thoroughly, washing his hair, anything he could think of to take more time and hopefully encourage her to leave.

For a long time, he stood under the hot spray, just waiting for the medication to take effect. 

“Are you okay in there?” she asked through a crack in the doorway. 

“Out in a minute,” he promised, and shut the water off. He checked to make sure the bathroom door was closed before stepping out and drying off. He finger-combed his damp hair back from his face, wrapped himself in a short terry-cloth robe, and staggered outside. 

He began to feel pleasantly light-headed and couldn’t seem to concentrate on what he’d been about to do. 

“Hey,” said Shannon, who had been pacing in his bedroom and now stood with her arms crossed over her chest, just watching him sway. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “Been waiting long?” 

She cracked a reluctant grin. “Funny,” she observed. “How do you feel?” 

“Fine. Weird. Have I been drinking?” 

Her humor instantly disappeared. “You can’t tell?”

Suddenly she looked shocked. “Hey, you didn’t buy anything off that guy you were talking to at the bar, did you?” 

“What guy?” 

Anger flashed in Shannon’s eyes, and she edged past him, into the bathroom. A few moments later, she came back with an empty vial in hand, and several full ones clutched in the other fist. “Damn it, Daniel! Drugs and alcohol don’t mix. You know that.”

She stomped over to his closet and yanked a shirt and pants off the hangers, then threw them at him. “Get dressed. You’re going to the ER.” 

“Not to the base?” 

“You don’t want Doctor Frasier or General Hammond to know about this, do you? I’ll pay cash and you can thank me later, if you live through the night.” 

He didn’t see what all the fuss was about. He felt perfectly fine. Almost good, in fact.

But Shannon was angry and he didn’t want to fight with her, so he meekly complied.

Four hours later, he was back at home and Shannon was tucking him into bed, promising that she’d be on the couch in the next room if he needed her.

Then he closed his eyes, and slept for the remainder of the morning. 

When he rose, he headed for the bathroom and was surprised to see someone already in the shower. The glass was steamed up, but he could glean enough from the curvy shape to know it was a woman.

He didn’t remember bringing a woman home the previous night… but then he didn’t remember _anything_ about last night at all.

But if she were in his shower, he’d probably slept with her. 

He desperately needed to wake up. Without thinking things properly through, he undressed, reached for the shower door and opened it, intending to join the woman in her ablutions. 

He recognized Shannon instantly when she turned around and screamed, trying to cover herself with her arms and hands. 

Wearily, he stepped inside the shower and mumbled a good morning to her as he pulled the glass door closed. 

“Daniel Jackson, get out!” she demanded hotly. “Away wi’ you! I’m not done yet. And you’re… you’re naked!” 

“I generally shower that way,” he responded dully. “I won’t be a minute. We can share.”

He lightly grasped her waist and sidled around her, dousing his face in the spray. He spluttered water and wiped his face with one hand. “Besides, it’s _my_ bathroom.” 

She squealed and stepped back, shampoo foaming in her hair. “Oh, this is awkward,” she muttered, still covering herself as best she could. Foam dribbled down her forehead, heading for her eyes. She threw up her hands and jostled him out of the way so she could rinse her hair. 

He stepped out seconds after her and reached for a clean towel, admiring the view while he dried off. Shannon had her back to him, and he enjoyed looking at her shapely bottom. She was more voluptuous than any other woman he’d ever dated, and wished he could remember what they’d done together.

She seemed cranky for a morning-after, but maybe that was just her nature. 

“Danny, we have to talk,” she told him irritably, wrapping herself up in a towel. “But right now, why don’t you get out so I can get dressed?” 

“I’ve already seen everything, Shannon,” he reminded her. “There’s no need to be shy, after last night.”

He bent down and kissed her shoulder, then wandered out of the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. 

She slammed it after him and came out fifteen minutes later in a slinky black dress and high heels. 

“Look, I’ve got to go by my house and change or I’ll be late for work. Bring your lunch down to the new Archives room, and we’ll talk. Okay?” 

“I’ve got briefings all day,” he announced, checking his electronic scheduler as he packed up his briefcase. “I’ll call you later, and we can schedule a time—“ 

“Just come to my house after work,” she snapped, pulling a notepad and pen from her purse. She drew him a map and handed over the slip of paper. “I’ll be home all evening, and I’ll expect you to come straight over after your day is done. No side jaunts to any bars before you come. Got it?” 

He shrugged. He didn’t like how possessive she was being, and wanted to make clear that, whatever had happened between them the night before, it didn’t mean they were lovers.

“We’ll see. It might be late.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” Her anger seemed to cool somewhat as she looked at him. There was worry in her eyes. “Please, Daniel. It’s important.”

She reached up and touched his cheek with her hand in a gesture of affection. 

That softened him. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her soundly, pouring in all the expertise he knew. When he pulled away from her, Shannon’s eyes were still closed, her lips still softly puckered, and she seemed completely dazed, unable to move. She wasn’t even breathing. 

He patted her shoulder. “Hey. You’re gonna be late.” 

“Late. Yes. Late.” Her eyes opened slowly and she seemed to come to herself. She gathered her things and floated out the door, her feet barely touching the ground. 

Daniel smiled to himself. At least he’d left her in a better mood than he’d found her that morning. But he wished he could remember what he did with her, if he’d satisfied her or been selfish, out for his own pleasure and to hell with hers. He didn’t even remember asking her out, but then, he’d been doing a lot of drinking nights.

Maybe the death of enough brain cells due to alcohol inebriation was taking a toll on him. 

Still, not remembering his dreams was a pleasant enough bonus. He finished the cup of coffee he’d made for himself, put on his shoes and headed downstairs to his car. He noticed that his bike wasn’t in its usual spot, and wondered what happened to it. 

Things were starting to get scary.

He’d misplaced an entire motorcycle and slept with a woman from work without remembering any of it. He decided to make time to see Shannon that evening, and hopefully clear up the mystery. If she couldn’t help him with that, then maybe it was time to lay off the booze for a while. He couldn’t allow extracurricular activities to affect his performance at work.

That would get him booted out of the SGC, which was not an option. 

He needed his job. He needed to do the work. It was important, and _nobody_ did it better than he did. 

At least, he had that. He couldn’t hold his head up in the scientific community that had laughed at him for his crazy theories and tell them that he was right, but he _could_ go to other worlds and meet aliens every day, with those same stuffed shirts none the wiser. 

That was the best revenge of all. 

He passed through his day with plenty to keep his mind occupied, working well into the night before he realized the time and left the base.

Following the map Shannon had given him, he drove his Jeep to her building and parked in the underground garage, giving his name to the doorman in the lobby so he could pass through to the interior elevators that would take him to her apartment.

She answered the door quickly, then dashed back inside to rescue something in the kitchen. 

The meal she was cooking smelled wonderful. His mouth watered. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. 

“Are you hungry?” she called from the kitchen. “There’s plenty for two, or I’ll be bringing leftovers with me for lunch tomorrow.” 

“I could eat,” he returned, and began prowling around her living room.

There were plants everywhere, containers stacked together in a semblance of jungle in every corner. She had no television, but music was playing in the background – something with a great dance beat – and there was work stacked up on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

He sat down to peruse what she was doing and discovered that she had made detailed copies of the writings from Doctor Littlefield’s journal, as well as Logan’s report on the wall her team had examined on PX2-348 recently. 

“Hey, these are the same,” he commented, hoping his voice was loud enough for her to hear over the music and cooking noises. 

She peered through the pass-through between kitchen and living room and saw what he was looking at, and agreed. “You were right; they’re identical except for the final characters at each site. I’m guessing those are markers that the Four Races left here and there, for other explorers to find.” 

He sat down, pouring over the various items she had laid out on the table. “Thor translated the Asgard portion for us, so we have a comparison to the Ancient’s writing that Jack gave us. One of the hidden rooms on Siraket had writing from the Ancients, but I haven’t had time to translate it yet.” 

“Maybe we could work on that together,” she suggested. “But I’m more interested in the other writing you found there. I’ve seen pictures of it, and haven’t a _clue_ where to begin deciphering it. That script is like nothing I’ve ever seen.” 

He knew which writing she was talking about, and nodded. “I figured that out just before…”

Daniel grimaced and held his head. The memory was like being hit with a baseball bat. 

_Reyenne. Anubis. The slaughter of the Siraketans._

He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. 

_Just breathe._

“Dinner’s on, Daniel.” Shannon danced her way past him to the stereo, chose a different CD with a softer, atmospheric sound, and gestured him to the table. 

He wasn’t hungry any more, but knew his body needed some kind of nourishment, so he went with her to the table and sat down. She served him portions of everything, sat down across from him, crossed herself and bowed her head for a moment.

As she finished her silent prayer, she picked up her knife and fork and began to cut up the grilled chicken on her plate. 

“About last night…” she began. 

Daniel couldn’t remember. His pulse pounded. He chewed a bite of something, unable to taste anything, staring at the plate without seeing it. 

“We’ll need to go by the club to pick up your motorcycle. I wouldn’t let you drive it last night.” 

“Probably a wise idea,” he observed. 

“You don’t remember last night, do you?” 

He froze for a second, then swallowed the half-chewed mass. “I hope that doesn’t bother you.” He lifted guilty eyes to her face and found her staring back at him. 

She shrugged. “Hey, I’ve got _two whole years_ I can’t remember. One night for you shouldn’t be much of a bother. And besides, you’ve got a witness who can tell you all about it.” 

He turned his gaze back to his plate. “So what did I do?” 

Shannon sighed. “You got stinking drunk, for one thing. You danced like a whirling dervish and then ran away like the Devil himself was after you.” 

“And you stopped me from driving off on my bike,” he guessed. 

“Correct. I drove you home, and then I found out you’d bought some drugs at the club. When you started showing some signs of... well, being pretty out of it, I checked your bathroom and found the empty vial. Then I took you to the ER. I paid cash and gave them a false name, so the incident couldn’t be traced back to you at the base.” 

Daniel sat very still, staring at her. He felt a little ill.

She had saved his career by doing that, maybe even his life. “Thank you, Shannon.” He noticed she didn’t say what had happened between them after she took him back home. 

Her hand settled over his. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Danny love. I _know_ what you’ve been through has changed you, but look at what you’re doing to yourself! I don’t know if it’s conscious and intentional, or subconscious and all the more dangerous, but you’re courting death and it’s scaring me. I’m giving you the opportunity to change your behavior on your own, because if you don’t, I’ll have to report it to General Hammond. And you know where that’ll get you.” 

“Back in the infirmary, or under psychiatric care,” he acknowledged flatly. He sighed, and toyed with his dilled potatoes in butter sauce. “And you’re right. I knew exactly what I was doing.” 

He met her eyes and decided to come clean. “I thought… if I were killed in a motorcycle accident or something like that, it might go over better than suicide.” 

Understanding gleamed in her green eyes, and she nodded. “But you’ve thought about _that_ , too. You’ve _wished_ for it.” 

“Haven’t you?” he asked softly. “I mean, two years of your life are gone, with no idea what might have been done to you during that time. Your fiancé moved on after your body was brought back. Your whole _life_ disappeared until you came through the Stargate and proved who you were, and even then, you couldn’t get everything back.” 

Shannon’s expression softened. Grief lit her eyes, but the corners of her mouth softened in an almost-smile.

“My experience was different from yours, Danny. I may not be able to recall a single moment of those years, but every time I think about it, I feel this… warmth inside, this inexplicable joy. I know without knowing that whatever happened during those two years was a good thing. And even if I never know where I went or who I was with during that time, I believe I was okay.”

She sobered. “And as for David, I know he’s happy now. That’s what counts.” She dropped her gaze and toyed with her food. 

He sat up straight in his chair, remembering their earlier conversations about her absence, shortly after she returned. He’d been concerned about her, especially after she had found out what happened to her fiancé, knowing she could never reveal to the man  she loved that she was still alive.

That had broken her up for a long time, and Daniel had helped her through it.

They had become good friends, but when her need for his counsel waned and she became more stable, he had gradually withdrawn his attentions to a simple, smooth working relationship. 

_Until now._

He had been intimate with her, and she probably saw that as something deeper. 

Her cheeks colored as he studied her. “And just so you know the rest of what happened last night, I put you to bed after the doctors gave you the all-clear, and you went right to sleep. _Alone._ I bunked on your sofa to make sure you’d be all right through the night.” 

That startled him. “You mean, we didn’t…” The full impact of that settled into his consciousness. “So when I got in the shower with you this morning—“ 

“Wasn’t expecting that,” she giggled. “You were still sleeping when I went in your bathroom. I was planning to wake you just before I left. I never imagined you’d be jumping in the shower with me.” 

His face heated up.

He covered his face with his hands, thoroughly mortified. No apology would ever be enough. 

She chuckled softly. “It’s okay, Daniel. You looked a bit confused, and I wanted to wait till we were finished with the heavy stuff before we tackled the things that didn’t really matter.” 

“So all that proprietary anger this morning wasn’t because you thought I was in love with you—“ 

“But because I was worried about you. And I still am.” She patted his hand again. “Eat, Daniel. You need to take care of yourself, and I can guarantee from looking at you that you’ve been doing bugger all of that lately.” 

He nodded, and sighed at his plate. He’d have to start shaving regularly again or decide to grow a full-fledged beard, rather than maintaining the scruffy look he’d adopted of late.

Shannon was right about his behavior and cared enough to try to help him, as he had once done with her. 

“Um, about that kiss this morning...” 

She laughed. “Yes, well, I don’t know what that was for, but I certainly enjoyed it. That was quite possibly the best kiss _ever,_ in my book. So don’t you dare try to take it back.” 

He stabbed another bite of the chicken scaloppini and met her laughing eyes.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised.

But he couldn’t help remembering seeing her naked with water running over her body, and the maidenly way she’d blushed as they toweled off together. He wasn’t sorry for any of that.

He wondered… if he’d tried to seduce her that morning if she’d have turned him down or enthusiastically complied? 

They finished their meal in companionable silence. Daniel was certain he hadn’t eaten so much in a very long time, and it felt good, comforting somehow. He helped Shannon clean up the dishes and put away the remains of the food, and then she grabbed her keys and escorted him to the door. They drove in her car to the club to fetch his motorcycle, then back to her place to retrieve his car. 

She wished him a good night in the garage and patted his back as she started to draw away. He caught her arm and she stopped, looking up at him expectantly. He thought about what he wanted to do for a moment, then stepped closer and leaned down to kiss her again. 

He stopped an inch away, her breath warm on his lips. 

“Are you sure you want to do that, Danny love?” she breathed, her eyes boring right into his. 

“Yes,” he murmured. “But I can’t. Not yet. I’m not ready.” 

Her palm settled gently against his bristly cheek. “You’ll know where to find me when you are.” 

“Down in your deep, dark cave, with the music playing,” he whispered. “Dancing to the beat of a different drummer. One that only you can hear.” 

She smiled and drew away, and he let her slip out of his grasp. His eyes closed. He could still feel her presence there, still smell her perfume in the air and feel her warmth on his lips, but it wasn’t the right time, and he knew it. 

He turned around, headed for his car and drove home with her music playing in his head, unable to shake the image of her dancing, always dancing, in his mind.

Something about her nagged at him, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. It would come, in time. The answers always did, most often when he was looking the other way, thinking about something else. 

Daniel let the images play, let them take him down into his dreams, hoping she would stay with him all through the night.

She would be there for him, he knew.

As he had been for her.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam paced the parking lot, waiting for the man in the wheelchair to roll up to his van. 

“Got a minute?” she asked him, sidling up close. 

“For you, always,” he told her, his expression guarded. He locked the wheels, clasped his hands over his lap, elbows on the armrests of his chair. “What can I do for you, Samantha?” 

“Forgive me?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Is that all?” he grinned, just a little. “Not a problem. But I’d like to know what I’m forgiving you for, if that’s okay.” 

She glanced around the parking lot and saw that there was no one in earshot. Squatting down beside his chair, she looked up at him and thought about how beautiful he was, how warm those brown eyes were, looking back at her. “I think I’ve been a fool, here, Ro, but I’m not sure. Either that, or I’ve abused you and no apology would be worth enough to cancel that out.” 

His heavy black brows twitched together as a wry smile tugged at his lips. “What are you talking about, Sam?” 

She sighed heavily, gathering herself to launch into the discussion, but she saw him shivering and knew the cool weather was probably going right through his light jacket. Her BDUs were plenty warm, but she could feel the bite in the wind on her face.

“Why don’t we get inside your van and then we can talk.” 

“Thought you’d never ask.”

He opened the back door and started the lift that would carry his chair up to the rear entrance of the vehicle. She went around to the passenger door and waited for him to wheel up to the front and open it for her. While she climbed inside, he moved into the driver’s chair and arranged his legs. 

She saw that there had been virtually no change in his mobility, and wondered if what she had done with the healing device had helped him at all. 

“Okay,” he announced, once he had strapped himself in. “Now, where were we?” He met her eyes cheerfully. 

Sam hesitated. “Ro... has there been any difference...?” 

He beamed. “A little. I can feel some sensation in places that I couldn’t before. There’s apparently some regeneration of nerve tissue, but it’s not consistent. Still, a little feeling is better than none. Thank you for that.” 

She let out a long, slow breath. “Okay. I guess that’s something.” She frowned down at her lap. “Look, Ro, what we did… what _I_ did to _you_ … It was selfish. I’m so--“ 

He put out his hand and laid it on her thigh. “Samantha, we made love with each other,” he corrected her gently. “It wasn’t all one-sided. You _do_ know that, don’t you?” 

“I want to believe that, but if you couldn’t feel any of it…” She was floundering, aching inside. 

Romani reached out and pulled her close, shutting her up with a kiss that wiped every thought clean out of her mind.

 He let her go and she hovered right there, next to his lips, eyes closed.

“I felt you with my hands and my mouth, Sam. I felt your body against mine, and I could watch everything else. I could see us, and it was...” He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. “…a miracle.” 

Her eyes opened slowly. “Yeah?” 

“Hell, yeah! And I want _more_ , if you’re willing to love someone like me.” 

“You mean brilliant and warm and gorgeous?” she teased, a smile sliding slowly across her lips. 

His hand touched her cheek. “You know what I mean. I’ll never be able to take you dancing—“ 

She shrugged. “I don’t dance. Two left feet.” 

“Or for walks in the park—“ 

“I’ll strap on some skates and we’ll go for a roll instead.” 

He grinned. “You’re not making this reality check easy, Carter.” 

“ _This_ is a reality check? I thought it was an apology for my stupidity.” 

“Stupid, you’re not. Just a little scared, and you’ve got a right to that. Having a paraplegic for a boyfriend won’t be a piece of cake.” 

“That’s okay. I can’t cook, anyway. You’re the genius in the kitchen.” 

“You know, I’m trying to give you a graceful exit here, and you keep shooting me down.” He was so sweetly serious. 

She sat up and grinned at him. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Romani.” 

“Wanna go to my place and fool around a little?” 

She laughed. “Depends. Are you gonna cook?” 

“Of course.” 

“Then you’ve got a deal, gorgeous! Why don’t we go to my place instead? I’ve got a bigger bed.” 

He turned the key in the ignition. “I’ll need to go by my place to pack an overnight bag. That is, _if_ you intended this to be an all-nighter?” 

“You betcha.” 

He turned the key in the ignition. 

“Hey, Ro.” 

He glanced at her as he checked behind the van, preparing to back out of his space. “Yeah, baby?” 

Her expression was sober, and he hesitated, locking eyes with her. 

“You know, I’ve got kind of a reputation around here.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “Nobody talks about it to my face, of course, but I’ve... overheard things in the halls. Things tend to, um, happen to the men I fall for. Most of them are dead.” 

Shock skittered over his face. “Just a run of bad luck, Sam. Don’t let superstitions influence what you do. I gave all that up when I walked away from my culture, and I’m hoping you won’t let your past history influence your present. Or, hopefully, your future.” 

She swallowed hard and nodded. “I hope you’re right. I could use a little happiness for a while.” 

He studied her for a long time, the van’s engine at idle. Something in his eyes grew bright and strong. He looked determined about something.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a few weeks, Sam… I’ve fallen pretty hard for you. For whatever that’s worth, and however long either of us has, I want you to know that... I love you. You’re an incredible woman, and any man on the planet – or in the whole _universe_ – would be lucky to have you, regardless of past history.” 

She felt a little awed by his admission, gushy inside like a schoolgirl. “Gee, thanks, Ro. You’re really racking up the brownie points, aren’tcha?” 

He grinned wickedly. “Am I? You’ll have to cash those in for me when we get home.” 

He backed out of the parking spot, using hand controls to power and steer the big vehicle. She watched him go, certain she was the luckiest woman ever born to have found a guy like that. It didn’t matter to her that he couldn’t walk beside her, or that their lovemaking would have some limitations.

He loved her, and she felt the same way about him. 

She crossed her fingers, praying that her unlucky streak was over and that he’d be the one she got to keep.

Then she hijacked his stereo, singing and bouncing in her seat, filled with pure joy and a sense of expectation that the world would be a brighter place with him in it.

 

* * *

 

 

**28 November**

After three weeks of normalcy, Jack knew it wasn’t nearly enough to get Daniel’s equilibrium back. He still walked with his head down most of the time, was slow to speak and mumbled when he did. He spent a lot of time alone – or with his cat, which was basically the same thing – and despite the team’s efforts to rope him into social outings, he still managed to find excuses to avoid them. 

Not so today. Jack had gotten up at 4 a.m. to start the turkey.

Teal’c had stayed over in the guest room and rose early to make salads and bake the rolls under Jack’s supervision. The Jaffa wasn’t much of a cook, but he learned fast and seemed to enjoy the process.

 Due to Carter’s lack of expertise in the kitchen she had been spared bringing anything edible, concentrating on bottled beverages, store-bought veggie trays and snack type items that would keep them busy until the meal was ready.

Daniel had been assigned the desserts, with specific instructions to keep the recipes Earthbound. 

Sam arrived with Adam Romani, who visited briefly and departed since he hadn’t been invited.

Jack felt bad about that after the guy left; however, the doctor’s presence might make Daniel uncomfortable, so Jack thought it best that Romani be absent by the time the last member of the team arrived.

Sam made herself at home on the viewing deck with the telescope eyeballing the neighbors, and the day wore on with no sign of the missing man.

At about sundown, Jack’s phone rang. 

“Yeah?” he answered distractedly, taking a test sniff of the cornbread dressing. 

“I’m sick,” whined the familiar voice on the other end of the line. 

Jack straightened and forgot about the dressing. “You want me to come and get you?” 

“No,” Daniel replied slowly. “Must be some kind of virus. I’ll just stay home in bed and not infect the rest of you. Happy Thanksgiving.” 

Jack pulled the phone away from his ear. “Carter!” he yelled. 

“Yes, sir!” She rushed into the kitchen. 

“Daniel’s sick. Whyn’t you and Teal’c go pick him up? I’ve got a couple things left to do.” 

“Jack!” the phone shouted. 

He put it back to his ear. “Yeah?” 

“I said I’d stay home!” 

“And I sent Carter after ya. She’s already gone.” He nodded his head toward the front door.

She left the kitchen quickly, with Teal’c silently in her wake. “I’ll make you some turkey soup or somethin’.” 

Daniel sighed. “You’re just not gonna let me be miserable in peace, are you?” 

“You’re family. You don’t get out of Thanksgiving that easy. If I gotta cook, you gotta eat it.” 

“I didn’t make any desserts,” Daniel complained. 

“Then we won’t put on quite as much weight as we planned. See ya in a few.” 

“Bye, Jack.” 

He hung up the phone, finished up the dressing and headed for the bathroom to check his home pharmacy. A couple of extra blankets and pillows from the linen closet spread out on the couch would make a passable bed. Clearing all the unnecessary items off the coffee table, he gauged how much food would fit on it and set up a card table nearby to hold the rest.

The box of tissues from the desk in his office migrated to the coffee table so they’d be in reach, and returned to the kitchen to take the turkey apart and throw some of it into a pot to boil.

From the vegetable tray he stole enough celery and carrots to add some flavor, diced some onion and added a few spices.

By the time the group returned, the soup was nearly ready. 

Daniel’s face was flushed and he was wrapped up in a blanket from his own bed. His eyes were glassy and fever-bright, and Jack laid his palm on the other man’s forehead as he crashed onto the couch. “Damn. What are you taking?” 

“Advil. But I threw it up right after I took it.” He turned his face toward the back cushions of the sofa and sighed. “I really should have stayed in bed, Jack. You sure can be a stubborn ass sometimes.” 

“Well, it was easier to move you than for us to cart this feast over to your place, so shut up,” Jack snapped back. “Besides, you need somebody to look after you.” 

“I need my bed.” He moaned and closed his eyes. “And a trashcan. Fast.” 

Jack reached under the end table beside the sofa. “Wish granted. Somebody get a wet cloth from the bathroom.”

He held the wastebasket in place while Daniel heaved over it, took the proffered washcloth from Teal’c and wiped his friend’s face with it. 

Daniel slid down wearily on the cushions until he lay flat on the sofa.

“You guys don’t mind me,” he grouched. “I’ll just lie here and completely destroy your appetites.”

He sighed. “Jack, learn to listen to me, will ya?” 

But the Colonel was gone, rinsing out the waste can in the bathroom tub. He put a liner in the can and set it back by the sofa, then stuck a thermometer in Daniel’s mouth. Jack retreated to the kitchen to pour up a small glass of 7-Up and ladle out a bowl of soup, complete with crackers, and carry the tray back to the living room.

Then he was on the phone to Doctor Frasier, reading the thermometer and offering a list of symptoms. 

Fetching the recommended medications, he gave them to his patient and sent the others to the dining room to eat.

Minutes later, he joined them and sat at the head of the table, eyeballing the mangled turkey.

“We have a lot to be thankful for, kids,” he said gently. “We’re all alive to see another Thanksgiving. For a while there, I didn’t think we were gonna get that.” 

“Amen,” Sam chimed in, nodding. 

“The Jaffa do not have such an observance,” Teal’c announced. “What festivals we do have are at the whim of the Goa’uld, or dedicated to their worship. I look forward to the day when my people will enjoy this same day of thanks… for their freedom.” 

Jack nodded solemnly. “So do we, buddy. So do we. Let’s eat.”

He scarfed as much as he could manage, and then got up to check on the man in the next room. “He’s sleeping, thank God. I really shoulda left him at home, but…” He glanced at each of his teammages as he resumed his seat. “ _You_ know.” 

“Yeah,” Carter agreed, glancing at Teal’c. “We were worried about him, too.” 

“We’re probably gonna get it, too,” Jack reminded Carter. 

“Then he can take care of us,” she beamed. “And he _will_ , too.” 

“Yeah.” Jack smiled fondly. “That’s what families do. Take care of each other.” 

He dropped his gaze to his plate, full and satisfied.

For a change, all was right with the world. It wouldn’t last, he knew, but it was a moment he could hold onto and keep for whenever he needed it.

Jack picked up his fork and surveyed the table, wondering what more damage he could do to the dishes arranged there. Mashed potatoes looked like a good target, and there was more turkey waiting to be carved up. 

“It’s gonna be a good day, kids, and we don’t get many of those. Dig in.”

 

* * *

 

 

**24 December**

Daniel scanned the duty roster, counting the names of people who were rootless, as he had been for most of his life. There were far too many. The SGC seemed to attract that kind of people – loners who looked only to themselves for their needs. The program molded them into teams that were close as families, as his was, but at this time of year, he always felt it wasn’t enough. 

He’d spent the last month listening to casual conversations, working odd subjects into conversations seamlessly to feel people out, and with some patience and deduction, he found perfect gifts for every one of the people on his list. The others helped with suggestions and shopping ventures, and Sam did all the gift wrapping. The nametags were all done on computer so handwriting wouldn’t give them away, finally everything was ready. 

Jack had drawn the straw to play Santa that year, and since General Hammond was at home celebrating the holiday with his grandkids, the Colonel was in charge of the base.

As the Christmas Eve shift drew to a close, Daniel sat at his desk tidying up the few things he wanted done before he left for the day.

Voices approaching down the hallway tipped him off to incoming visitors.

Santa swept in the doorway, pushing a cart draped in red fabric trimmed in white fake fur, loaded with gaily wrapped packages. 

“Ho ho ho. I’m missing an elf,” the bearded one said, and threw a green hat at Daniel. 

The archaeologist held it up by the point and looked at it.

The hat had its own ears, long and pointy.

He rolled his eyes up to Santa and stated flatly, “I’m not wearing this.” 

Sam bolted in the doorway after him, a pair of white feather wings strapped to the back of her BDUs, and a tinsel halo affixed to a headband over her head. She was grinning from ear to ear. “Come on, Daniel! People are starting to get ready to leave for the day.” 

Teal’c brought up the rear. 

Daniel’s mouth fell open. 

The Jaffa also wore a headband, but his had little brown reindeer antlers attached to them, strung with blinking multicolored Christmas lights. 

“We must hurry, Daniel Jackson,” he admonished calmly. “We have a great deal of ground to cover.” 

“Move your ass, Jackson,” O’Neill ordered, turning his cart around. “And wear the hat. Santa needs his elf.” 

With a sigh of resignation, Daniel flopped the hat onto his head and followed the merry crew out the door and down the hall.

Everywhere they went, people were smiling. It took most of an hour to pass out the presents, and the last handful went to the crew on duty in the control room above the Stargate.

SG-1 parked the empty cart in a storeroom and headed up the stairs with presents in hand, just as the claxons went off to announce off-world activation of the portal. 

Jack pulled off his beard and hat and watched as a signal came through with a code number given to the Tok’ra.

He authorized release of the iris, and sighed with relief as Jacob came down the ramp.

“Merry Christmas,” he called to the older man. 

“Hey, Santa,” the Tok’ra called gaily. “This is more a personal call than anything else.” He grinned up at his daughter. “Hi, angel. Merry Christmas.” 

Sam was already headed down the stairs and rocketing into the ‘gate room to meet him. 

Jack finished passing out the gifts and met the Carters in the briefing room, bringing the rest of the team with him. 

Daniel had lost the elf hat somewhere, hoping nobody noticed. “So what do the Tok’ra think of Christmas?” he asked casually. 

Jacob bowed his head, allowing Selmak to take command of his body and reply _. “It is an interesting concept, Daniel. The hope of a great deliverer is common in many cultures. Perhaps one day, our Shetat will reveal himself.”_

“ _Shetat_ ,” Daniel repeated. “The Hidden One?” 

_“You have no memories of the prophecy?”_ Selmak asked. _“The Shetat is as old as the gods themselves. As old as Ra. Anubis would have been searching for him, as all the Goa’uld have been for many thousands of years.”_

“He was.” Daniel turned to his teammates, nodding in agreement. “The _Shetat_ is a forbidden legend among the Goa’uld.  Anubis was starting to believe the _Shetat_ was just a ghost story, something to strike a little fear into the fearless.” 

Jack cleared his throat. “Well, you know how I feel about fairy tales, Daniel. But I’m sure Jacob didn’t get permission from his buddies in the resistance just to spend the day with his kid. There’s gotta be another reason he’s home for the holidays.” 

Jacob nodded. “There is. We’ve been slipping more low-level spies among the ranks of the System Lords, and there’s been another summit. Osiris spoke with them all privately, out of earshot of their personal guards and _lotaurs_ , which is almost unheard-of trust for them to show each other. Those who heard what was said before the extras bowed out aren’t talking. Something big is brewing, but as yet, we don’t know what it is. We’ll keep you posted as information gets to us.” 

“And meanwhile, we were about to go to my place for our SG-1-style Christmas,” Sam interjected with a grin. “Much fun to be had by all. Can you stay, Dad?” 

“Overnight, but I have to be gone early in the morning.” He smiled brightly at his daughter. “I’ve missed you, kiddo.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek. 

“Well, then, let’s get this party started!” she ordered, rising from her seat. 

“Roger, that,” Jack agreed. “Meeting dismissed. I’m making the rounds a couple more times till the General gets here for his shift, and then I’ll meet you guys for egg nog at Carter’s.”

He stood up and ushered them out the door. 

Daniel felt movement behind him and turned just as Jack shoved the elf hat back down on his head. 

“Ho ho ho, Legolas,” O’Neill grinned. “Go have fun.” 

Daniel waited till he was out of sight of the other man and separated from the group before taking the hat off again. Returning to his office, he spied someone leaving just as he rounded the corner and recognized Doctor Murphy’s long auburn hair retreating down the hallway.

 He let her go without calling to her, having already wished her happy holidays and delivered a special present to her earlier. 

He stepped into his darkened office and flipped on the light switch.

There on his desk was a stack of gaily wrapped presents, along with cards and envelopes with his name on them. He sat down at the desk and recognized the handwriting on several of the gift tags. One was addressed, _To DJ_ – which had to be from Doctor Logan, since she was the only one who called him that. Another was _To Danny_ , though only a couple of people got away with calling him his childhood nickname, and he was sure it wasn’t Jacob or Jack who had put the present there. That left Shannon, and the printing looked like it could be hers. The rest were all _To Daniel_ or _Doctor Jackson_ , and he toyed with opening them right then. He couldn’t take a haul like that to Sam’s and open them up in front of everyone else, since he’d have far more than the others. But staying in his office to open them wasn’t exactly an option either. 

He fetched a box from one of the storage rooms and piled all of the gifts into it, carried them out to his car and put them in the trunk, deciding that he and Zoe could open them together after he got home that night, or maybe wait till Christmas morning. He’d be working the holiday so others with families could be off, pulling a double shift to make sure the job was covered for those who had to be there.

It was touching to see that kind of respect from his peers and underlings. 

The SGC was starting to feel like home again, like the one place in the entire universe where he _truly_ belonged. 

And that was a very good feeling indeed.

 

**_On to Chapter 4: Family_ **


	4. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Goa'uld begin a massive buildup of their army, while the prophecy of the Mandanu begins to rise. Daniel's research into the mysterious liberator begins to bear fruit, and they find evidence that the Furlings may somehow be involved. He figures out how to open the doorway into the Ancients' secret hideaway, but what they find on the other side creates a burden far too heavy for Daniel to bear.

Teal’c sat quietly, observing the others making merry and laughing, all but Daniel Jackson.

The scholar stared into the flames in the fireplace, the corners of his mouth softened by an almost-smile, his thoughts obviously far away.

Teal’c wished there were something he could do to help his friend, but no one could alter what had happened. All he or anyone else could do for him was to offer their support and affection, and they were already doing that. 

Doctor Romani had stopped by Carter’s house briefly with a gift for her and to meet her father, and Teal’c took note that Daniel went out to his car at that point, returning with a load of packages that he’d spent an inordinate amount of time placing just so under her tree.

Once the psychiatrist left, Jackson had returned to the group, but not completely.

Carter had poured them all eggnog and turned on the Christmas music, and after some tales of Christmases past and good-natured teasing, she began to hand out the gifts. 

The Jaffa had one from each of them. He saved Daniel Jackson’s for last since it was biggest and made interesting noises when shaken. With great care, he took the wrapping paper off and studied the box.

It had a painting of a sailing ship on it called the _USS Constitution_. After opening the box, he saw that it was filled with tiny pieces of brown plastic, larger pieces that appeared to resemble the ship’s hull, and several lengths of slender cord. 

“What is this?” he inquired. 

Daniel smiled softly. “Remember about a month ago, we were talking about hobbies for you? Something to do in your spare time?” He nodded toward the box. “That’s a hobby. It’s a model of one of the great ships in America’s first navy, and you put it together, piece by piece, paint it, and when it’s done, you’ve got something intricate and beautiful for display in your home. It’s kind of like a puzzle, actually. I used to make those when I was a boy.” 

Teal’c examined the pieces. A project like that could take a very long time, indeed. He wasn’t sure he would like such a tedious pursuit, but it was something new he could try. “Thank you, Daniel Jackson. I shall begin work on it when I return to my quarters.” 

“Merry Christmas, Teal’c.” 

He offered a nod of acknowledgement, and pulled out the instruction sheet. There were several additional items necessary for preparation of the model, but Daniel had thoughtfully provided everything.

The task looked arduous, tedious, daunting, but Teal’c committed himself to it with an open mind, hoping he would gain some enjoyment from it. Somehow, he could not grasp how such an endeavor might be undertaken as pleasure. It looked much more like work than something people did for enjoyment. 

Still, Daniel Jackson had admitted to such hobbies as a youth, so Teal’c would try it, and appreciate it in the spirit in which it was given. 

“Model building, huh?” asked O’Neill, coming over to prowl around inside the box. He leaned close to the Jaffa’s ear. “Looks like work to me.” 

“I was just thinking that.” He arched an eyebrow at his commander. “What sort of hobbies do you pursue, O’Neill? Other than fishing and hockey. I have determined that neither of those would be suitable for one such as myself.” 

The Colonel straightened and took a thoughtful swig from the beer bottle in his hand. “Oh, there’s…” He waved a hand airily. “Cartoons. I watch cartoons for fun.” His brow furrowed in thought. “Biking. There are a lot of scenic trails through town that I like to ride.”

He studied the liquid in the bottle as he swirled it around. “Music, I suppose. I could teach you to play the guitar.” 

“I will consider that, O’Neill. Thank you.” 

“So you’re lookin’ for things to do in your spare time, huh? Lemme think about what might work for you. I’ll get back to you on that.” 

The Carters took notice of the conversation at last, and joined in. 

“I like to do puzzles,” Sam admitted. “Not so much the jigsaw kind, but Mensa has a great website with a lot of math and science brain teasers I enjoy solving.” 

“The Tok’ra don’t have hobbies,” Jacob added. “But I’m a big fan of old movies and football. I’d love to pick up a game, but we don’t have enough people for two teams.” 

“There’s always art,” Daniel offered. “Painting, sculpture…” 

“Basket weaving,” Jack said flatly with a look that said he was teasing. “Flower arranging. Pottery.” 

Carter laughed. “I can’t see Teal’c doing any of those, sir,” she returned. 

“How about taking up a trade, like carpentry?” Jacob suggested. “You could build your own furniture. I always wanted to learn that.” 

Sam looked astonished. “Really? I never knew.” 

He shrugged. “Well, it’s a little late now anyway. Plus, I stay way too busy with the stuff we’ve already got going on. Being a Tok’ra is a twenty-four hour a day job.”

He paused, head cocked, as if listening to someone. “Oh, shut up, Selmak.” 

In response to Carter’s quizzical look, he clarified. “Selmak said being a Tok’ra is _not_ a job. Like she’d know any different.”

He glanced away, his gaze suddenly unfocused. Abruptly he stood up and addressed his daughter. “Pardon me, angel. We’re having an argument in the confines of my brain.”

He wandered away to another room, leaving the team alone. 

“It’s good to have him home,” Samantha smiled. “I miss him.” 

“He’s different now, isn’t he?” Daniel asked quietly, staring into the fireplace again. 

“Well, yeah. But not that much.” Sam came over and sat on his lap, stroking his hair fondly. “You okay, Daniel?” 

He offered her a gentle, sad smile. “Yeah. More or less. But I think I should shuffle off home. Zoe will be miffed enough as it is.”

He patted her bottom and she got off him so he could stand. 

“That looked mighty cozy,” Jack observed. “Good thing Romani wasn’t here to see it.” 

“Oh, come on, Jack! She’s like my sister.” Daniel straightened his trousers and headed for the door.

Before he got there, however, he returned to the sofa to address his hostess. “Sam, why didn’t Doctor Romani stay? Was it because of me?” 

Carter grimaced a little. “We thought you might be… uncomfortable around him socially.” 

Daniel kissed her forehead. “If he’s gonna be your boyfriend, Sam, there will be times when that will be unavoidable. I’ll be okay around him. He’s _not_ MacKenzie.” 

She grinned. “No, he’s not. _Very_ different personality there.” 

“Just as long as he doesn’t psychoanalyze me in public, it’s okay. Night, Sam.” He waved to the others. “Night, Jack, Teal’c. Merry Christmas, everybody.” He gave Carter a hug. “Give Jacob my love.” 

“I will.” 

He wandered out the door, and the other three eyed each other. No one spoke for a long time.

Sam made eye contact with her CO. “Have you ever noticed that, when Daniel’s not around, we don’t talk to each other much?” 

“This is true,” Teal’c observed. “He seems to be a catalyst for conversation.” 

“And a lot of other stuff,” she agreed. “What would we be without him?” 

No one answered. 

But visions of just that possibility cast its shadow over their minds.

Everyone studied the floor, lost to their own thoughts.

Teal’c remembered Siraket, when they had been searching for Daniel Jackson.

He let the scenario play to the negative, discovering that the man had been taken as a host and having to kill him. 

Teal’c studied the Colonel, who was staring silently into the fireplace as he finished off his beer.

O’Neill was a strong leader, driven with passionate belief in the human race, in himself and his team. But all too often, he failed to believe in Daniel Jackson when it was most important. 

“We would be incomplete without Daniel Jackson,” he murmured softly. “And I believe that, in the war to come, we would be lost without him.” 

Jack O’Neill didn’t look up from his contemplation of the flames. He didn’t speak. Without a word to the others, he headed for the front entry, grabbed his coat, and left them in silence. 

Carter watched him go, then turned anguished eyes on her friend. “It’s not over between them, is it?” 

Teal’c slowly shook his head. “It is not.” 

She sighed and hung her head. “I swear, Teal’c, if they get into it again, I’ll kill ‘em both.” 

“You will not.” 

She stood up. “I know. Just blowing off steam.” She gave him a tight smile. “Looks like you’ve lost your ride back to the base. Wanna sleep over?” 

“That would be pleasant.” He studied the box in his lap. “Perhaps you might assist me with starting this model.” 

Sam grinned. “Sure thing. Pull out the instructions and let’s see what’s what.” 

Teal’c followed her to the dining room, and Carter proceeded to lay the contents of the box out in order, organizing as she went, explaining everything she knew about how those old ships were operated, and how they had affected the history of their time. 

 

* * *

 

 

**January**

No one on the planet Sem understood what was happening, except that the gods had come to punish them. These were strange gods that the Semites did not know, gods whose minions had the heads of animals with glowing eyes, and who carried powerful weapons that could destroy at great distances. 

The Semites did not fight back, and when the great pyramid came to settle on the mountaintop above their capital city, all came to make obeisance and offer their greatest gifts to the gods. 

Only the one called Osiris wanted no tribute.

She wanted soldiers. Her warriors selected the finest males, those barely able to be called men because of their youth, all the way up to those sprouting their first gray hairs. Only the very young, the aged and frail, and the infirm were left behind.

All the fit and the strong were herded into the great pyramid. 

The rejects watched in horror as the enormous ship lifted up into the sky and took their men with it, never to return. 

Then the planet Sem blew up in a thousand fireballs, and the surviving Semites knew then that the one called Osiris had power beyond imagining. They would be her slaves, and serve her without question for the rest of their lives.

 

* * *

 

 

**February**

Derek Hernandez watched the blonde stroll hesitantly down the sidewalk, glancing at a piece of paper in her hand, then up at the doorways of buildings she passed. Obviously, she was looking for someplace, and after glancing at her left hand to see if she was sporting property tags, he smiled and walked up to her. “Hi. Can I help you find what you’re looking for?” 

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and waited. She smiled hesitantly up at him, her brows drawn slightly together in confusion. She was beautiful, her shoulder-length hair down around her face. Perfect creamy skin made him want to touch, and those eyes – uptilted and clear, looking positively elfin, almost magical. 

“Yes, please. I cannot find this place.” She handed over the slip of paper. 

Good Lord, she had an accent!

He was sunk, and forced himself to direct his eyes to the note. “Uh…” The handwriting was a sloppy scrawl that he could barely read, but the address was familiar. “This is the building where I live. How about if I walk you? I was headed there anyway.” 

She nodded, all pearly white teeth and pale gray eyes. “Yes, yes. Very good.” 

“My name’s Derek. I can tell by your accent that you’re not from here. Are you visiting someone in the apartments? Maybe I know them.” 

She shook her head. “I hear apartment is empty. Maybe I live there.”

The woman held out her hand to him, pausing long enough to shake it. “I am Ana. Ana Ash.” 

“Sounds like a properly English name,” he commented idly, studying her further. “Where are you from?” 

“Have you ever been to Luxembourg?” 

He shook his head. “I know it’s somewhere in Europe, but that’s about it.” 

“I am from there. I learn English a little bit,” she told him, holding up finger and thumb close together, “and come here to see America. You show it to me, yes?” 

Heat shot through his body. He couldn’t believe his luck, and smiled back, pretending nonchalance. “I’d love to. I travel a lot, though, so I might not always be available to act as tour guide. Is that okay?” 

“That is okay, yes,” she agreed, nodding vigorously. 

He edged toward the door of the apartment building, gently touching her shoulder to steer her toward it. He didn’t want to put the moves on her too fast, but he could already tell that she liked him, and that could lead a lot of places.

He was also aware that, as a member of SG-4, he was privy to a lot that others – particularly the Russians and the low-lifes at NID – might be interested in picking out of his brain in unguarded moments. Just in case she was a plant, he would have to be careful, keep things strictly physical and impersonal with her. 

But she was _damn_ sexy, and he could already envision her in his bed. 

He took her to the building office and waited while she inquired about the vacant apartment, sweet-talked the manager into an unofficial temporary lease for a month or so while she visited.

Ana put down a large sum of cash to pay the first month’s rent.

The old guy took her up while Derek tagged along, making conversation with both of them, and when the business was concluded and she had her key, he took her out to dinner and for a tour of the city. 

By dawn they had done the nasty three times, and he knew this chick was the hottest thing he’d ever had. 

He began to hope for a light duty schedule for the next thirty days or so, just so he could spend as much free time as possible with the babe. 

* * *

 

 **14  February**

Teal’c carried the box down the corridor, the last one of his deliveries. Daniel Jackson had explained about St. Valentine’s Day and how its social significance had been corrupted by mercantile endeavors. He’d told the Jaffa that it offered him an opportunity to show the women who worked for him that he appreciated them, and gave them flowers on that day every year. This last box was the biggest of all, and as he approached Doctor Logan’s office, Teal’c wondered how she would react to them.

She was different from most other Earth women, and he never knew what to expect from her, how she would react to any given situation. 

He knocked on the door and stepped into her little room. She glanced up at him and smiled, spying the long white box in his arms. “Who are those from?” she asked him. 

“From Daniel Jackson. He has given flowers to all of the women on his academic staff.” He presented the box to her with a bow. 

“He’s a good boss,” she said as she accepted them. “Knows how to treat his people. But I could have done without the flowers.”

She made eye contact. “Don’t tell him that, though. I don’t want him to think I don’t appreciate them.” She rose and went to a metal locker behind her desk. From it, she pulled a round bowl about four inches deep, and a small round object that looked as though it had hundreds of needles embedded in it, points exposed. 

She knelt on the floor with the two objects and the box of flowers and sat very still for a moment, her hands at rest on her thighs. 

“Are you preparing to meditate, Doctor Logan?” 

“Would you like to watch, Teal’c?” she asked, her eyes aimed at the floor. “It’s a method of Japanese meditation called _ikebana_. Flower arranging is the focus of the stillness.” 

“I would like this very much,” he answered, his curiosity aroused. He sat on the floor in meditation position, hands on his knees, and watched her. 

After a moment, he saw that her breathing was regular and deep. She appeared relaxed, and reached for the box. With careful, studied movements worthy of any priestess, she undressed the box and lifted the lid. Taking the field knife from the holster on her belt, she took the flowers out one by one, cut them to the proper length, and placed them on the needles inside the bowl. Gradually, the arrangement took shape until it looked as though it had been lifted directly from a garden somewhere. When she was finished, she poured the bowl full of water, placed her palms on the floor and bowed until her forehead touched her fingers. 

Teal’c was moved by the performance. 

“That was very beautiful, Doctor Logan.” 

She inclined her head regally, and said nothing. 

“Would you teach me?” 

Her green eyes shifted up to his. Pleasure gleamed there. “I would be honored, Teal’c.” 

He made a date with her to start the lessons, and rose to leave. He thought about the model ship Daniel Jackson had given him as a hobby, and how much of a trial it had been to put the thing together. He had done it as quickly as possible, with Major Carter’s help, and left it on Daniel Jackson’s desk. It was still in his office, moved to a place where it could be seen from anywhere in the room as a gesture of honor to Teal’c’s effort. But the human also understood without being told that his Jaffa teammate would rather not see it again, or have it as a reminder of his endeavor.  Model building was not for him. 

Daniel Jackson had not bought him any additional model kits, and Teal’c was thankful. 

This experience with Doctor Logan, this meditation of the Japanese, appeared to have grace, beauty and a reverence to it that Teal’c understood. 

He looked forward to this potential hobby, and counted the hours until he could begin.

 

* * *

 

 **April 2**

Daniel helped himself to the wine Shannon kept in her refrigerator just for him, and sat down on the sofa while she changed CDs. He started to ask her something as the first song started, but when he saw Shannon dance away from the stereo, for a moment he couldn’t move. She was lost in the music, completely disregarding the fact that she had an audience. Her movements were so familiar, he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t noticed what they were earlier. 

She waltzed over to the table, sidestepped around the end of it, and resumed her seat beside him on the couch. 

“Dance for me,” he requested, breathless and excited. “Just like you were doing just now.” 

“What? Why?” She looked startled and a little embarrassed. 

“Just do it. Please, Shannon, it’s important.” 

“But I haven’t got the faintest idea what I was doing. I was just moving to the music.” She shrugged, wide-eyed, off-balance. 

He got up and stepped to the middle of the room. “Watch.” It took some effort and a couple of false starts to pull the movements from his memory, but he concentrated on the story being told and thought he’d managed to get it right. “That’s what you were doing, Shannon. Do you understand what it means?” 

She frowned and gave another shrug. “I was just dancing, Danny.” She rose and shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot. “You must be a quick study.” 

He shook his head. “I learned this dance _seven months ago_ ,” he assured her. “I didn’t recognize it at first when you were doing it, because you’ve added your own personal embellishments, made it sexier. But it’s the same dance.” 

“I suppose it’s possible. So? What’s the significance?” 

“Dance with me,” he urged her, reaching out for her hand and pulling her to the middle of her living room. He started first, just shifting from foot to foot in time to the beat, until she joined in. He put his hands on her waist and backed her up a step, then let her go and put a few feet of space between them. “Come on, Shannon. Dance with me. Just do whatever you feel.” 

“Okaaay,” she drawled uncertainly, and closed her eyes. She started to move, keeping wary watch on her partner. 

Daniel copied her movements exactly, as if he already knew what came next. His eyes bored into hers, and then he began to speak.

“ _‘And the Ancients grew weary of their existence, and went on a great journey. They built roads to new worlds, and left invitations for all who wished to join them. But only those whose hearts are ready may open the last door.’_ ” 

He could see when realization set in, when she understood that the movements she was making with her hands and body described the tale he told. She stopped moving. Her eyes filled with tears. 

“How do you know that, Daniel?” she demanded in a tense whisper. 

“I learned this dance and a few of the others you do so often... _on Siraket_. The bigger thing is, there was only one time _you_ could have learned them.” 

He saw that her mind couldn’t grasp what he was hinting at. 

“Shannon, _you’ve been to Siraket._ That’s where you were during the missing two years.” 

She didn’t blink. Great fat tears welled up in her eyes, spilled over her lashes and rolled down her face. Her lower lip trembled as she tried to speak. “That wasn’t where our mission went.” 

“No, it wasn’t,” he confirmed. “PS2-434 was locked out of the dialing program after you were thought to have been killed there. You went to Siraket from _there_ , through _that_ Stargate.” 

“I _couldn’t_ have! I didn’t know the address for Siraket. I still don’t.” 

He nodded. His heart felt squeezed with excitement and a little apprehension. “Somebody else _did_. Whoever was with you, whoever made the body double of you, also took you to Siraket.” 

“Who?” she demanded, her eyes wide with fear. Why?” 

Excitement was building inside him, and he hoped that would help calm his friend’s fear. “I don’t know, Shannon, but we’ll find out. We’ll go back through the gate to PS2-434, and we’ll _find_ them.” 

“No! I won’t go through the ‘gate again.” 

Daniel gathered her in his arms, reassuring her as best he could. She was trembling, terrified, and he didn’t blame her for being afraid. If she couldn’t do it, then he’d have to learn the dances himself. 

What he was absolutely certain of was that Shannon Murphy was the key to the Siraketan mystery. 

He sighed. Best to give her time to absorb the idea. “Okay. Don’t worry about it, then. I guess it doesn’t matter.” 

Shannon pressed her face against his throat, her body shaking like a leaf in a gale. He had to comfort her somehow, to take her mind off what he had suggested.

“It’s okay, Shannon.” He closed his eyes and let the music seep through him. “Dance with me,” he whispered against her hair. 

He started to sway, leading her in a slow circle. She felt good in his arms. His hands slid over the curve of her back, up to her shoulders and beneath the fall of her long auburn hair. She sighed softly, and he felt her raise her face beneath his chin. Her lips touched his throat, her breath hot against his skin. She wasn’t kissing him exactly; she just lay there, her mouth barely touching him. Her hands smoothed up over his chest to his shoulders and up into his hair at the nape of his neck. 

Her fingers touched his scar.

Daniel jerked backward, smoothing his hair back down to cover it. His heart was pounding, and all he could think about was getting away as the memory of implantation surfaced with nauseating detail.

“I have to go,” he blurted, and grabbed his jacket as he bolted for the door. 

“Daniel, wait!” she called. 

He stopped at the door and shot a final glance at her.

She looked as terrified as he felt, her haunted eyes huge and filled with grief.

“I lost my whole life to the ‘gate,” Shannon reminded him, her voice quivering. “I’ve never loved anyone like I loved – like I _still_ love David.”

She sighed and rubbed both hands over the top of her head, gripping the hair over the back of her neck as she stared sightlessly at the floor. “You lost Shau’ri forever. _You_ had no choice, no way to get her back. But I…”

Shannon shook her head, hands lifted in a helpless shrug. “David’s still _alive_. He’s married to someone else now, doesn’t even know I’m alive, and I can _never_ tell him. That’s what the Stargate took away from me, Daniel. I _had_ a choice. I could have gone back to him, but I gave him up _. I gave him up!_ And I regret it _every day_.”

Her voice hitched, grief and pain pulling at her face, flooding her eyes, shuddering through her body. 

He shook his head. “No, Shannon. You _didn’t_ have a choice.”

He remembered the day SG-2 had brought her body back – or what they’d thought at the time was her corpse. “There’s no way you could have undone the funeral. He saw your body, for Pete’s sake! We all did. And except for the miracles that occur every day at SGC, that wasn’t something you’d _ever_ be able to take back. You _knew_ that.” 

“I could have found a way,” she insisted. “But I didn’t. I made a choice. I chose… my _world_ over my _heart_.” 

“We do that every day,” he reminded her. “ _All_ of us.” 

The redhead nodded and met his steady gaze. “Yeah. Thanks for being my friend, Danny. You help get me over the rough spots.”

She trudged over to the stereo and turned off the music. Then she plopped down on her sofa, staring off into space. When she spoke again, her voice was as hollow and empty as her eyes. “Good night. Drive carefully.” 

He hesitated. She was still, perfectly still, and Shannon Murphy was _never_ that. Some part of her body was always in motion, whether it be her foot tapping to the rhythm of her music, her head bobbing as she listened, or her hands swaying to the tune.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, taking a step toward her. He was worried now. 

“Fine. I’m just fine. You can go now.” Her voice was a raw whisper of grief. 

“I don’t think you’re fine at all.” He came back in and sat down beside her, sure in his heart that she should not be left alone. Shannon was falling apart, and he had been the cause of it. 

She didn’t seem to hear him in the silence. “I’ll never love like that again,” she whispered, staring at the wall. “I could just fly out to LA, drive up to his door, and walk right back into his life. I could do that. But he’s moved on. I’m just a memory now. I can’t ever have him back, can’t ever hold him—” 

Daniel put his arms around her as the flood started, and let her cry on his shirt until her grief was spent. He understood how she felt, sympathized with her sacrifice, but ultimately, he knew there was nothing he could say or do to make her feel better. At his urging, she rose from her seat and he guided her into her bedroom, aiming her at her bathroom door.

“Go wash your face and put on your pajamas,” he advised. “I’ll turn down your bed.” 

She obeyed without protest, and when she emerged a little while later, he tucked her in, planted a quick kiss on her forehead and squatted down beside the bed. 

“Get some rest,” he ordered softly. “Want me to come by in the morning and pick you up?” 

“No. I’ll be okay. I promise. Just feeling sorry for myself. This, too, shall pass.” 

“Call if you need me.” He rose and straightened the covers over her, patting her shoulder affectionately. He turned toward the door. 

“Daniel,” she murmured, staring at nothing in particular. 

He glanced back at her. 

“We’re a pretty sorry pair, aren’t we?” 

He almost smiled. “Yeah. Just a couple of rays of sunshine. Good night, Shannon.” After a pause, he added, “I’ll always be here for you. Remember that.” 

Her eyes closed. “ ‘Night, Danny love. See you at work sometime.” 

He left quietly, locking the front door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 **April 3**

Daniel sat at the computer terminal, scanning through the arrival logs for the proper video clip. Once he located it, he called it up to the viewer and played it back. Studying the images from the moment the Stargate engaged, he watched SG-4 come through the watery surface, Major Majors herself dragging Shannon’s body through by one arm. 

_The Major’s face was the picture of distress, and as soon as the ‘gate closed behind the team, she was on her knees, cradling the lifeless body in her arms and calling Shannon’s name as the medical team rushed up to lend a hand.  
_

_General Hammond’s voice boomed over the PA system, demanding to know what had happened.  
_

_“I don’t know, sir,” Majors answered tearfully. “There was this explosion. Everybody scattered, and when we did a head count, Doctor Murphy came up missing. We found her forty feet away. I think she must’ve stepped on a mine of some kind.”_

_A soft sob escaped her. “God, I think she’s dead, sir. We got back through the ‘gate as quickly as we could, but it’s too late. It’s too late! She’s dead.”_

_She hung her head and wept. “Jesus! She’s so young.”  
_

The body was out of the room and on the way to the infirmary before Majors finished speaking. General Hammond barked an order for a full exam of everyone with a briefing to follow, and the recording ended. 

Daniel played it again and again, watching SG-4 come through the ‘gate with the body. 

“What am I missing?” he asked himself aloud. But whatever it was didn’t come, and he pulled up the next video clip in his queue. 

_Claxons were going off all over the place as the ‘gate opened and Shannon came through, alive and well, dressed in her SGC BDUs bringing the entire control room to a dead stop.  
_

_“Who the hell are you and how did you get the authorization code you’re using?” General Hammond demanded.  
_

_Shannon looked dazed and a little surprised. “It’s mine,” she answered instantly. “I’m Doctor Shannon Murphy. What’s going on, General Hammond, and why did my team leave without me?”  
_

_“Doctor Shannon Murphy is dead!” Hammond shot back. “SG-Four brought her body back two years ago. Now, tell me who you are and what you’re doing here?”  
_

_Her expression revealed her shock. “Two years? That’s not possible! We just left here a few minutes ago. There was an explosion, and we got separated. I searched for them, but their footprints led right back to the ‘gate. When I couldn’t find them, I dialed home.” _

_She stared wide-eyed at the soldiers all around her, weapons pointed and ready to fire. “Honest, General Hammond, it’s me, I swear.”_

_She lifted her arm slowly, peeled back her sleeve and showed off the GDO. “See? Check me out, if you want.”  
_

_“You can be damn sure we will!” Hammond snapped. “Take her into custody, gentlemen. Doctor Frasier can check her out from the holding cell.”  
_

_“Oh my God,” Shannon moaned, clasping her hands behind her head in surrender as she marched out of the embarkation room.  
_

_“Doctor Frasier and Major Majors to the briefing room,” Hammond ordered over the base PA._

_The log entry ended a second later._

 

Daniel frowned.

Shannon’s story was plausible. Encountering a minefield just outside the Stargate would certainly be reason to block that address, if the world on the other side weren’t safe.

Jackson could testify from personal experience that minds could be tampered with to such a degree that the victims believed whatever story they were told. False memories could be implanted, and he wondered if Majors and the rest of SG-4 had been checked for that, now that they had the technology to determine such anomalies. 

Still, it would take more than suspicions and vague ideas to inspire General Hammond to reopen the investigation of what had happened to SG-4 so many years earlier.

For that, Daniel would need proof, something more that Shannon’s dancing.

He might never find that, at least not on Earth, and he couldn’t get past the restriction to PS2-434 without authorization to locate that proof.

The only thing he knew for certain was that Shannon had to go to Siraket, and he had to go with her.

Until he resolved Shannon’s puzzle, the one on Siraket could wait. 

He started at the beginning, with the MALP relays from PS2-434, and what it found there. 

The planet was mountainous and there was snow on the ground. Wind blew little swirls of powder into the air, and not far away, the probe spotted a statue carved into the side of a steep hill. It lay on its belly, half covered in snow. It was an animal of some kind, but the mounds of white and the icicles that collected on the underside of its raised head prevented identification of its species. 

He stared at it.

Though this one looked somewhat newer, it was almost _identical_ to the one on Siraket.

His pulse quickened, and he checked over the other information before checking the reports filed by SG-4, upon their return to Earth.

The statue wasn’t mentioned at all, not by any of them. 

He practically ran all the way to Jack’s office, papers in hand, mind reeling with discovery.

“I found something!” he blurted. “Come look at this.”

He grabbed Jack’s sleeve and towed him from behind the desk to the command center, punching up the MALP data for his CO. “Do you see it?” 

“Sure. That’s Siraket in the winter. Looks damn cold.” 

“It’s _not_ Siraket!” Daniel correcte, grinning. “It’s the planet where Shannon disappeared.” 

“Who?” 

“Doctor Shannon Murphy. You remember, the woman from SG-4 who disappeared for two years?” 

“Oh, _her._ We took that planet off our go-to list when that happened.” 

“Yes, but look! It’s the same statue, on two different planets! Jack, we _have_ to go back there!” 

O’Neill swiveled around in the chair. His expression clearly revealed that he thought his teammate was nuts.

“I don’t think so, Daniel. What’s gotten into you?” Shock, mild horror and shame flickered across his face. “Never mind. Sorry about that.” 

This time, Daniel didn’t even think about the reference to his implantation. “Shannon is the _connection,_ Jack! Two identical statues on planets a galaxy apart. She disappears on one, and reappears on another. Somebody _took_ her there, Jack. Somebody took her to Siraket from PS2-434, and we have to find out _who_ and _why_.” 

O’Neill would not be moved. “No, we don’t. That planet was locked out for good reason. We don’t repeat our mistakes, Daniel. You _know_ that. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on _me_.” 

But Daniel would not be refused. “Look, we know somebody faked her death so we wouldn’t look for her. Whoever did that had the technological capability to reproduce a lifeless human body in minutes and completely wipe out Shannon’s memory of two whole years—“ 

“Which is _exactly_ why we should stay away,” Jack shot back. He stood up forcefully, glaring at his teammate. “They were nice enough to let us have the lady back. We shouldn’t test their generosity by sending in more guinea pigs. The _next_ time they might not be so kind.”

He leaned close to Daniel, glaring, his voice tight. “And I don’t want to lose _you_ again.” 

“But, Jack—“ 

“ _No_ , and that’s final!” 

Daniel opened his mouth to argue, saw the obstinate gleam in those brown eyes, and threw up his hands in defeat.

“Fine,” he snapped, and stormed back to his office, slamming the door behind himself.

He seethed, angry that he was being ignored yet again. He spun around and grabbed a section of books on the shelves and flung them to the floor. He’d cleared off three shelves before he got hold of himself and started to pace instead of add to the mess. 

Nothing had changed in the world in which he no longer belonged.

He sat down at his computer and started writing a letter of resignation.

He was just putting the finishing touches on it when General Hammond knocked on the door.

 _Saves me the trip,_ Daniel thought sourly. 

“Pardon the interruption, Doctor Jackson, but Colonel O’Neill has requested permission to return to PS2-434. He said it was important, and that I should see you for the details.” Hammond glanced at the mess on the floor, a question in his eyes, but he didn’t ask it. 

For a moment, Daniel couldn’t move.

He stared at his visitor, unable to believe what he’d just heard.

“ _Jack_ asked for the mission?” 

“He did, and I’d like to know why, if you don’t mind. I’m not sure I want to risk another disappearance of one of my valuable team members.” 

Daniel took a moment to collect and organize his thoughts, putting the facts together in such a way that the argument he proposed was persuasive.

Hammond’s expression was pensive, not dismissing the idea out of hand.

Jackson offered theories as he walked the General to the control room and pulled up the MALP recordings from both Siraket and PS2-434 on two different monitors so they could be compared side-by-side. 

“I _don’t_ want to get anybody hurt,” he added with passionate emphasis. “I don’t want to risk anyone’s life on this mission, but I _truly_ believe we were meant to put two and two together on this. I think we’re being _invited_ back, sir. And I think it’s incredibly important to accept that invitation.” 

Hammond studied the recordings and cocked a gray eyebrow. “Have you discussed this with Doctor Murphy?” 

“No, sir. And I don’t think she should be told about it.”

“Why not, Doctor Jackson? I’d have thought you’d want her with your team on this.” 

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and glanced around the control room.

There were other people at their stations, and he lowered his voice to lessen the chance of being overheard.

 “I spent some time with Shannon after she came back. She was pretty upset for a long time, and I think if she knows we’re going back, she might have a serious setback. She’s finally learned to cope with what happened, General Hammond. Let’s not screw that up for her.”

He smiled. “I can tell her about it when we get home.” 

“Let me think about it,” Hammond returned with a polite smile. “I want to be _absolutely sure_ it’s worth the risk.” 

“I think it is, sir.” 

“Colonel O’Neill seems to feel the same. I’ll get back to you tomorrow with a decision.” He left the control room to return to his office, head down in thought. 

Daniel strolled back to Jack’s office and found him gone.

He wandered to his own personal space, and upon entering the door, found the Colonel sitting behind his desk, reading the resignation letter on his computer screen.

“I didn’t print it,” Daniel confessed, feeling a tad mollified now. “General Hammond hasn’t seen it, and he won’t. Thanks for _listening_ , Jack.” 

O’Neill closed the file and deleted it before he met his friend’s eyes. “I’m _sorry_ , Daniel. You understand I’m throwing in with you against my better judgment, but I’ve _got_ to learn to trust you. If you really believe it’s that important—“ 

“It _is_. I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt.” 

“Then that’s all _I_ need to know.” He rose and stepped out from around the desk, studying the haphazard pile of books on the floor. “You want any help cleanin’ that up?” 

“Well, I had them in order, once upon a time, but I guess just getting them on the shelves again would be better than this. Yes, I’d appreciate a hand. Thanks.” 

O’Neill squatted down and began to collect an armload of books. “So, how well do you know this Doctor Murphy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her around.” 

“She runs Archives. Red hair, green eyes. Dances a lot.” 

“A dancer, huh? Don’t think I’ve seen her. Maybe I should make her acquaintance, pick her brain before we go out.” 

“You think Hammond will go for it?” 

Jack shrugged. “He’ll weigh up the risks, but he’s already got half the team ready to ship out and the other two will go with us anywhere. That’ll count for a lot.” 

“Knowing how important the Tok’ra thought Siraket was, there’s bound to be something of real value on PS2-434.” Daniel hesitated. “And please, Jack, _don’t_ tell Shannon what we’re planning to do. Wait till we get back. I don’t want to spook her.” 

O’Neill grunted as he hefted another stack of books. “I don’t really know her. Didn’t talk much to Majors back then, either. Murphy was just another egghead to me, but I saw how torn up SG-4 was over her death. They all felt responsible, somehow.”

He juggled the load in his arms and eased them into place on the shelf. “How was she when she came back?” 

“At a loss to explain what happened. Didn’t remember anything. She thought she’d only been separated from her team for a few minutes.”

He sighed and shelved a load of books. “The hardest part was finding out she was dead here. I went to her funeral. So did the man she was supposed to marry.” 

Jack paused in the middle of stacking. “And she couldn’t tell him she was alive, because the government couldn’t explain away an identical body buried as hers. That had to be tough.” 

“She lost her _whole life_ , Jack. She’s got a new legal identity so she can keep collecting paychecks, but here she’s still Shannon Murphy.”

He shook his head. “And yeah, what she went through was crushing. We got to be pretty good friends back then. She said she wouldn’t have kept her head on straight, without me.” 

Jack waited until Daniel met his eyes.

“You do that for a lot of people,” he observed quietly.

“You still see her much?” 

Daniel shrugged and gathered up another stack. “When I’m down in Archives. They just dug out a whole new room for all the stuff we’ve collected, so she’s gonna be up to her ass in alligators for a while. We’ve seen each other socially lately. Little research projects here and there, is all.” 

“Well, so far you two are the only ones at SGC who’ve lived past your own funerals. You got a lot in common.” 

“Besides being eggheads,” Daniel reminded him with a touch of humor in his tone. 

“Yeah. Besides that.” Jack grinned. “So she’s smart, huh? Does she look like a geek?” 

“She’s beautiful, Jack, but totally unavailable. She feels about her lost love the way I do about mine.”

The scholar carried the last stack of books back to the shelf and began to reposition them in order. 

“Daniel.” 

He turned at the gentle summons. 

“It’s gonna be okay... Isn’t it?” 

Daniel met his friend’s worried gaze.

“You mean, am _I_ gonna be okay?”

 He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some minutes are better than others. But something like this, a challenge that gets my head back into my work, this’ll help a _lot_. I don’t know why you changed your mind, but… I appreciate it. This kind of puzzle is the best medicine for me.” 

Jack patted his cheek and then rested his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “That’s _why_ I changed my mind, Daniel. I figured, if you were that excited about something, it could only mean you were getting better. I... I didn’t want to take that away from you.” 

Daniel felt the relief flooding through him.

He hugged Jack briefly, and then pulled away to return to reordering his library while the Colonel slipped out the door.

Maybe things _were_ changing for the better after all, if this were any indicator. It was a hopeful sign, at least.

He would just have to be patient and see how things went when they stepped off world the next time.

 

* * *

 

  **April 5**

Daniel checked through his new field gear, since he’d lost several of his uniforms on Siraket when Anubis burned down the tent, along with several of his books and some personal items he’d brought along for the extended trip. Much of that had been replaced, and since this was his first trip off world post-Siraket, he wanted to make sure he had everything he’d need. 

They knew they were heading into a potential combat situation, so helmets were the order of the day. His old one was still in his locker, but as he reached for it he saw the new Boonie hat he’d been issued hanging where one of his teammates must have put it.

He reached for it, handling it like it was made of glass, the memory of Reyenne in the temple burning his mind and heart like a brand. He could see her smiling beneath him, feel her body accepting him as he thrust into her sweet warmth, filled with excitement and love.

She had played with his hat and his glasses as he made love to her. 

And now they were all gone… the hat, the glasses, and the beautiful, fragile woman he had loved. 

Rage poured through him. He wadded up the hat and flung it across the room, grabbed his helmet and stormed out the locker room door. Moments later, grimacing with fresh grief, he ran back through the door and frantically searched for that hat, locating it behind another set of lockers across the room.

He held it to his chest for a moment, cradling it tenderly in his hands. And then he placed it back into his locker, laying it out flat on the shelf, carefully smoothing the shape just so.

 He closed the locker gently and leaned against it for a moment, gathering himself with a deep sigh, and letting the memories go. 

Reyenne was gone. He could never have her back again. But he would wear that hat when he went out on missions, and every time he put it on, he’d think of her. That would be his tribute to her, because it had been something she loved. 

He fastened the chin strap on the helmet as he headed out of the locker room, turning left down the corridor and heading for the armory before going to the ‘gate room. He stepped into the nearest elevator and pushed the floor for the lowest level.

He wanted to make sure of something before he left, and once that was done, he collected his weaponry and hurried to the ‘gate room to join the rest of the team, who would no doubt be tapping their collective feet, waiting for him to appear so they could leave.

 

* * *

 

 

“Be careful out there, boys and girls,” Jack warned, stepping toward the event horizon as Daniel mounted the ramp behind him. “Remember what happened last time.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Major Majors, standing at parade rest at the foot of the ramp with a grim look on her face. She wasn’t happy about tagging along, but had refused to let another team return to that planet without her.

SG-4 had been interviewed extensively -- with the exception of Doctor Murphy -- in preparation for the mission, until Jack thought he knew enough about the previous trip to be prepared for what was to come.

As soon as Doctor Logan knew they were planning another mission, she, too, requested to come.

Still, Jack’s hackles rose as he stepped through the wormhole behind Majors, and when he came out on the other side, the cold they always experienced traveling the wormhole didn’t go away. 

It wasn’t as icy as the previous MALP recording showed, and as they neared the statue, walking in the wake of the bomb scanning machine as it cleared a path for them, he noticed the head could clearly be seen.

The figure looked kind of like a cross between a llama and a lemur, but with huge eyes. It reclined in a Sphinx-like pose, head up and scanning the horizon toward the ‘gate. 

Logan stopped walking, suddenly curious. “Hey, Daniel, you don’t suppose...” She nodded at the statue in wonder. 

Daniel followed his eyes. “What?” 

“The head on our Sphinx was re-carved smaller into the likeness of some pharaoh or other, so no one knows what the original head looked like. You reckon...” 

“It might have looked like this originally?” Daniel chuckled as he finished the sentence. “Wouldn’t _that_ be a discovery to make!” 

“And one we’d only be able to read about in the SGC history books,” Logan finished. “I swear, DJ, if this ever goes public, you are gonna be _such_ a big goddamned hero to the geeks of the world.” 

Jack noted privately that he’d be the first to admit it, and turned his attention back to scanning the perimeter and threat-assessing for the two teams. 

Majors kept her attention fixed on the scanner, her face sweating even in the chill. “I think we’re clear of the mine field. Looks like it was just around the ‘gate, but keep your eyes open and ears sharp. There could be more out there.” 

Daniel nodded, glancing back the way they’d come, then ahead at where they were going. 

“You know,” he continued casually as they neared the statue, “the original Sphinx body was carved about fifty thousand years ago. Water erosion from a great flood proves that, though a lot of so-called experts think that’s a load of cow-flop. Bet it’s true, though. Bet it looked just like this, once upon a time.”

He strolled up and patted one of the great paws fondly. With wide eyes, he aimed his eyes at his hand and stared. “Except for this.” 

“What?” Jack and Sam both moved closer. 

“These aren’t _animal_ feet, Jack. It’s got four fingers _and an opposable thumb_.” 

“Wonder what it’s supposed to be?” Sam surveyed the nearby landscape, and then climbed up on the legs for a better view of the snowy scenery. “Hey, I think I see buildings over there.” She pointed over the top of the ridge up slope. 

O’Neill surveyed the path from statue to city, and turned to the visiting member of SG-1. 

“We were heading that direction when Shannon went boom,” Major Majors reported. Her gray eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don’t like coming back here, Colonel.” 

“I know, Major. But it’s important.” Jack swiveled around, tracking his archaeologist. 

Daniel was intent on the statue, climbing up on the forelegs to knock off icicles and snow from the head, or what he could reach of it. When he finished, he got down and trotted away a few paces to examine the profile. “Definitely animal,” he observed. “But nothing like what we have on Earth. Hmmm.” 

“It’s kinda cute,” Logan observed. “Big eyes. Must be nocturnal.” She sidled up beside Daniel and studied it from that angle. “Definitely alien. I wonder what it pays tribute to? Sacred beast, god, political figure?” 

“And on _three worlds_ , if you count the one in Egypt,” Daniel added. He pulled out his camera and took videos of it in a 360 degree circle. “Okay. Got that. Now let’s see the city.” 

The teams headed up the slope, Majors and her team clearing their path until they were certain they’d left the second minefield.

They hesitated at the top of the ridge beside a pile of grayish-white rocks covered in snow, overlooking the deserted city.

Jack glanced at Daniel. “Looks like nobody’s home.” 

Daniel’s disappointment transfigured into alarm as the pile of rocks began to move, slowly disengaging from the mountaintop.

The teams scattered, taking cover behind whatever was available, weapons cocked and ready to fire, as the creature rose into a sitting position.

A sleek reptilian head on top of a long, slender neck shook off the snow, and it reared up on stout forelegs, its feet tipped in huge sharp claws. It must have been thirty feet tall, with an elegantly tapered body, powerful hindquarters and a long tail.

It studied the humans with a tiny spark of curiosity and made no threatening moves. 

_“Greetings,”_ it said, its voice booming in the still air. 

Daniel’s head came up. His pistol muzzle dropped, and he returned it to its holster on his right hip.

He stood up slowly.

“Greetings,” he returned breathlessly. “Um, forgive us being a little startled. We’ve never seen an actual real live, um, _dragon_ before.” 

The beast laughed gently. _“You are forgiven. What brings you to this place?”_

Daniel’s left hand went to his chest. “I’m… I’m Daniel. Daniel Jackson. My friends and I – we’re explorers. From Earth.” 

The dragon raised a taloned foot to its chest. _“You could not hope to pronounce my name, so you may call me what you wish. I am the guardian of the city of Noth.”_

“Okay, then, Bob,” quipped Jack, easing out from behind cover to stand next to his teammate. “How ya doin’?”

 He kept his P-90 pointed at the creature’s head towering above them. “Daniel, you wanna step back a little?” 

Logan stood up slowly. Her mouth hung open in a silent ‘O’ of shock. 

Moving closer, Daniel positioned himself ten feet from the dragon’s chest, looking way up at its face. “Can you tell us about the people who once lived here?” 

_“The Furlings have gone from this place. They gave my kind this world to watch over, until they return.”_

“Don’t get too close, Daniel,” Jack warned, still looking down the barrel of his gun. “I don’t trust that… ah, Bob.” 

The dragon’s head lowered and extended until it was fairly close to the two men.

 _“You have nothing to fear from me, as long as you do not violate the city,”_ it explained. Then it smiled at them, pointy teeth and all. It withdrew to its former height, gazing down benevolently at the group with a patient smile. 

Daniel wriggled with excitement. “The Furlings? This is a city of the _Furlings?_ ” His voice went high-pitched and breathy.

Pointing down slope to the statue, he spoke faster. “What is that? Is that what they look like?” 

_“It is, after a fashion. They walk upright, as you do, however.”_

Sam eased out from behind her cover. “Where did they go, Bob?” 

_“On a sacred journey,”_ it replied gravely, closing its eyes and bowing slightly. _“To find the Fifth Race.”_

Jack and Daniel exchanged a knowing glance.

“That’d be us,” the Colonel announced. “At least, we will be, one day. The Asgard told us that.” 

The dragon cocked its head, pointy ears pitching forward as it studied them with increasing interest. _“Are you certain of this?”_

“Told me themselves,” Jack reported. He finally let the muzzle of his weapon shift downward and relaxed his stance a little. 

_“Then I am honored. Be welcome to the planet Sha’r.”_ It gave a deep bow.

The dragon’s eyes popped open, in surprise. Its head moved right to Daniel’s hands. It sniffed. It sniffed him all over, nose pressed right up against his body, rustling through his clothes. 

“Oh!” Daniel stumbled backward, pushing the creature’s head away. “What the hell was that for?” 

But the dragon moved even closer. Its head was fully bigger than his torso, extending from his knees to the top of his helmet. It nuzzled under his arms, sniffing deeply. He backpedaled down the slope when it started sniffing his crotch. 

“Hey! That’s personal!” he shouted, shoving its nose away from his privates. 

Bob drew back. It was smiling. It started to chuckle. 

“Ah, Bob…” Jack had been watching the display, and couldn’t help cracking a grin. “You find something interesting in his pants?” 

Daniel’s face turned bright red. “That’s just. Please don’t ever do that again, okay?” 

The dragon’s voice rumbled like a low-pitched purr. _“You have held the key, but not yet opened the door,”_ it said cryptically. It cocked its head. _“And you have been host to a Goa’uld, but are no more. Congratulations.”_

“Yeah. Thanks. I already knew that last part.” Daniel frowned. “But what did you mean about the key? Whaa… what—what key? Key to what?” 

_“If you are the Fifth Race, you will discover this on your own.”_ It bowed, crossed its taloned feet, and laid its head down at Daniel’s feet. _“And you, Daniel Jackson, much lies ahead for you. The adventure of many lifetimes.”_

“You got some crystal ball that tells you that?” asked Jack, caressing the P-90’s trigger guard. 

Cat-like amber eyes glanced his direction. It chuckled again. _“The Furlings have many talents, friend of Daniel Jackson. Many gifts. One of them is time.”_

Jack frowned, his brows twitching together as he studied the creature beneath the rim of his helmet. “Can ya be _any_ more cryptic, there, Bob?” 

“ _Answers freely given are not worth much,”_ intoned the dragon _. “It has been a pleasure, my friends. Seek what has meaning. Follow your hearts.”_

“Live long and prosper,” Jack shot back, holding up his free hand with his fingers divided Vulcan-style. “So, you’re not gonna let us go exploring down there, huh?” 

_“I will not. Please do not make me kill you. Your lives may yet hold purpose.”_ It lifted its head, a casual curve to its long neck, and smiled down at him with lazy, heavy lidded eyes. 

“Works for me,” Daniel mumbled. He frowned, head down in thought, and wandered slowly down slope toward the Stargate. “I’ll dial home.” 

Sam caught up to him. “So did you get anything useful? Any leads on what happened to Shannon when she was here?” 

“I don’t think the dragon’s going to tell us.”

Daniel stopped walking. He studied his hands. That morning, after changing into his uniform, he had stopped by Archives to see Shannon, just to ensure himself that no one had spilled the beans about the mission to her.

He had hugged her briefly before departing.

Her scent was on him. _That_ was what the dragon had been smelling!

“I have held the key…” _That would be Shannon._ Bob _remembered_ her! 

He turned around and raced back to the creature.

Its eyes were closed, and it appeared to be sleeping.

“Bob, wake up! You saw Shannon, didn’t you? You _know_ her, don’t you?”

He extended his arm as far as he could reach and gingerly, nervously patted the creature on its nose. “Wake up! Talk to me!” 

It rolled one sleepy eye in his direction. It sighed heavily. _“The journey is yours, Daniel Jackson. Seek, and you will find your answers.”_

“But she was _here!”_ He jumped up and down in frustration. “She was _here!_ You _know_ her. What happened to her while she was here? Who took her to Siraket? Was it the Furlings?” 

_“Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes. The rest…”_ It looked up at him and winked, flashing a toothy grin. 

Jack chuckled in spite of himself. “Bob, I think I like ya. Maybe we’ll have a chat one day. Knock back a few brewskies, go fishing…”

The dragon sighed and closed its eyes again, looking like a pile of snow-covered rocks.

O’Neill sidled up next to Daniel and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Let’s not wear out our welcome, okay? We might have some more questions later.” He signaled the teams back toward the Stargate, but not everyone responded immediately.

Logan sat cross-legged in the snow, gently stroking the dragon’s cheek, her face alight with wonder.

“Logan, we’re leaving. Don’t make me come after you.” 

“But he’s _sweet_ , Jack.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and beamed, her eyes dancing. “I wanna take Bob home with me. Pleeeeeease?” 

“He won’t fit through the Stargate, Doc. You can come back and visit him again another time.” 

“Promise?” 

_Jeez, that look on her face made Jack’s dick twitch._

The Colonel eyed his archaeologist for an answer. “Whaddya think?” 

Daniel pouted, his enthusiasm suddenly gone. “Why is it that when we get so close to something real, the rug gets jerked right out from under us?” 

“Because nothing worth having is ever easy to get, like Bob said.” Jack looked back over his shoulder. “Time to go home, Logan. What’s the ‘S’ for again?” 

Logan sighed and got to her feet, giving the dragon a fond pat and a kiss before turning away.

The rumble of the creature’s chuckle followed her down the path.

“Smitten,” she exhaled happily. “I think I could love this place, without the bombs.”

She eyed the statue with a grin as she passed it. “And I can’t wait to meet _these_ folks.” 

“At least we’re going back all in one piece,” Major Majors grumbled, frowning at the dragon on the ridge. “Damn near shot that thing, you know.” 

“Good thing you didn’t.” Daniel kept his eyes on the cleared path. “We might have upset the _status quo_ if you’d killed Bob. Can’t have that.” 

“We made progress,” Sam reminded him, patting his shoulder. “We know where the Furlings lived, even though we didn’t get to look through their stuff. And we know what they look like now. Maybe Bob will let us in one day.” 

_“If_ Bob was telling the truth,” Daniel added, waving an irritated finger in the air. 

_“Dragons do not lie,”_ Bob boomed in a voice like thunder that rang across the landscape. 

“Good ears,” Daniel mumbled.

He stopped at the DHD and dialed home.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel typed out the official report at top speed, ignoring the sound of footsteps approaching until he had completed the thought.

As soon as he saw her, he stood up, sending his chair rolling backward. He cleared his throat, hoping she hadn’t heard about what he’d been doing all day.

“Hi! Shannon, what are you doing here?” 

She shrugged, dialing the volume down on her MP3 player. “General Hammond called and said I should come see you. I assumed you wanted me for something?” 

“Oh, remind me to thank Hammond personally for that,” Daniel groused, closing his eyes briefly.

He wasn’t ready for this.

“Close the door and come sit with me.” He got up from the desk and went to the sofa in the back of the room, moving a stack of books to the floor so she’d have space to sit down. It wasn’t well lit back there, since the only illumination in the room was the lamp on his desk and the computer monitor, but he hoped that would work in his favor. 

“What is it?” she asked hesitantly. “Has something happened? Is your team all right?” 

“Everybody’s fine,” he assured her. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to lead up to the revelation, so he decided to just get it over with. He took her hands in his, holding onto them to keep her in place. “I just got back from a mission to re-explore a planet we had locked out of the database. We got some important clues there, but nothing substantial yet. We’re just starting to scratch the surface—“ 

“Did you bring back something you want me to store?” There was no alarm in her demeanor yet. 

He shook his head. Maybe humor would help soften the blow. He cleared his throat.

“No. We, uh… we actually… met a dragon, which was cool, considering they can talk. Logan wanted to bring him home with her, but Jack said no.” 

Shannon looked delighted and adjusted her seat so she could face him. “That’s our Logan, all right. Why was she with your team, now that you’re back to work?” 

He hesitated, bracing himself. “SG-Four went with us. We interviewed most of the team during mission prep, and the General thought they should go with us when we went… to PS2-434. It was a good call.” 

Shock registered in her face. She drew back a little, trying to pull her hands out of his grasp. “Everyone’s all right?” she asked softly, breathlessly. 

“We’re all fine and accounted for,” he promised, squeezing her hands. “I didn’t want to tell you till after we got back, so you wouldn’t get upset.” 

“Upset,” she echoed flatly. Her eyes went blank for a moment. Traces of emotion registered at light speed across her face – surprise, shock, grief… and anger. Her unfocused gaze sharpened, then narrowed with the arrival of a mighty frown.

“Why would I be _upset_ , Daniel?”

Her voice had an edge that could cut steel. 

He knew that was a rhetorical question, and didn’t bother answering. The storm was coming. He could see the dark clouds forming in her eyes already and scooted backward a little. “I’m sorry, Shannon. I thought it best that you didn’t know until after we got back safe and sound. Which we did.” 

She crossed her arms. “Well, I’m glad no one was blown up,” she snapped. “And you’re right. I’d have been bloody well mad if I’d known in advance. But you _shouldn’t_ have gone back there. It was a risk no one needed to have taken.” 

“It wasn’t a risk,” he argued gently, shaking his head. “It was a _warning_ that we should proceed with caution, which we did. Let me show you what I found—“ 

She pounced to her feet. “No, _thank you,_ Doctor Jackson! That won’t be necessary. I don’t _ever_ want to see that place again, not so much as a photograph! I’ve witnessed quite enough of it in my nightmares.”

With a flick of her ponytail, she pivoted on her heels and stormed toward the door. 

“Shannon, wait!” he called after her, following a step or two behind. “Let me explain why we had to go back—“ 

“Don’t bother,” she bit back. “I bloody well don’t want to know.”

She grabbed the door as she reached it, turned just long enough to shoot him a heated glare, and then slammed it in his face. 

Heart hammering in his chest, he soaked up the silence for a moment, catching his breath and calming himself down. 

“That went well,” he whispered to the otherwise empty room. “At least she didn’t slap my face.”

Head down, he pondered her reaction and wondered how he could make this transgression up to her. He might not deal with her often at work, but when he did need her assistance in research projects or retrieval of archived materials, he wanted her open and cooperative, not harboring grudges. 

Letting her cool off would be the first order of business. After that, making some sort of apology would be necessary. To do that properly, he’d need to give some thought to finding a vehicle to acquire her forgiveness. For Shannon, that would be hard. 

Maybe he should take her dancing, once she was speaking to him again. 

_If_ he managed to get that far with her. She was angrier than he’d ever seen her, and that wasn’t a good sign. Irish tempers were legendary, and she was a redhead to boot. If the clichés were correct, that gave her a double whammy in the grudge department. 

He wondered how long it was going to take him, and how much work it was going to be, to get back into her good graces again.  With a sigh, he opened his door and returned to his desk, putting his mind back to the report on the mission to Sha’r. Maybe he should send a copy of it to her and let her read it – sans photos -  so she could see for herself what they had found. 

If she didn’t delete it without reading it first, maybe the written words might get to her through her most vulnerable point – her sense of curiosity.

In that, she was just like him.

He worked on the wording of the report to make it the most interesting read he could manage, with a great hook that he hoped she wouldn’t be able to put down.

 

* * *

 

 

 **April 25**

Books and papers were spread out all around them on the floor of Shannon’s apartment. Daniel’s stomach was blissfully full as he hunched over the photos of the statues. There was peace between them for the moment as he concentrated on the puzzle before him. 

“The statues are virtually identical,” he remarked, laying the three sets of photos side by side, “except for small differences. The Giza Sphinx has a re-carved head, of course, so we don’t know what the original looked like, but if we infer from these other two that it was built by the same people—“ 

“Which is a distinct possibility, given the _true_ age of the Sphinx,” Shannon interjected. 

“--Then we have _another_ alien presence on this planet, aside from the Goa’uld. Possibly much older. What does that tell us?” 

“Well, we know the Ancients were here, due to the presence of the Stargates. We can assume from a variety of rumors, myths and popular culture that the Asgard have been here as well. That leaves the Nox and the Furlings as potentials for creating the statues, and we now know who the artists were.” 

He loved that sensation when the puzzle pieces began to fit neatly together. It made him feel somehow more whole. 

Shannon’s head was canted, wheels still turning. “We’ve met the Nox – at least, SG-1 has – and saw no artwork resembling these statues. They seemed to blend in with their environment, rather than leave such bold statements as the Sphinx and these statues, and Bob identified Sha’r as the Furling homeworld.”

She was still sensitive about the mission, but dealing with it admirably. It had taken her a couple of weeks to be on speaking terms with him, and another week of persuasion to agree to a study session on the materials he’d collected. 

“So if we go with that, what significance is this creature? Is it a symbol of something they value, or some other depiction?” She rolled over onto her back, closed her eyes briefly and stretched to relieve the stiffness from so many hours of studying. 

Daniel’s eyes went to her chest. He couldn’t help himself. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

Shannon grinned as she caught the movement. “Hungry again, Daniel?” she teased.

“I saw where you were looking. It’s nice to be appreciated once in a while.”

She rolled onto her side and propped her head up on one hand, still smiling. 

“People appreciate you all the time. Guys, I mean.” 

“Oh, since _when?_ I live in a cave, remember? _Nobody_ ever sees me. Except you and a few of the other academic types.” 

Daniel rested on his elbows, head bowed over the open book, smiling in spite of himself. “Like you haven’t noticed the guys from the other teams making excuses to bring piddly stuff to Archives, just so they can look at you.” 

“Brilliant! So that’s why I find boxes of stuff on top of my desk all the time. Because guys I _never_ see are coming to ogle me.” 

He gave her sideways glance. “Yeah, they do. Admit it, Shannon. You’re hot.” 

“Please, Daniel. I’m seriously out of practice at being sexy.” Her tone was disbelieving, but then she shot him a perfectly naughty half-smile. “Now _you_ , on the other hand, you’ve always been oblivious to the fact that women drool over you every time you walk by.” 

“They don’t. I’m a geek.” 

“Have you _looked_ in the mirror, boyo? That scruff on your face, the long devil-may-care hair, not to mention that _very_ fine behind…”

She ogled, and made it obvious that she enjoyed the view. 

He glanced over his shoulder, trying to see his own backside. “I have a good butt?” 

“Must be all the walking you do. And yes, you have one fine arse, my friend. Peaceful explorer and intergalactic babe, that’s what you are, Daniel Jackson.”

She sighed, a note of false resignation creeping into her tone. “Pity all our best assets are going to waste. Both of us in our prime…” 

He studied the devilish gleam in her eyes and the grin on her face, and wanted more than anything to just kiss her right then.

He didn’t move.

She was a great friend, someone he truly enjoyed. He didn’t want to ruin that. 

Then she shook her head, her expression changing to wistfulness. “Danny, seeing as we’re both emotionally unavailable and such good friends, maybe we could…” 

This was starting to go to an awkward place. He thought about calling it a night. 

She frowned down at her book. Then she eyed him, confused and almost angry. “Would it be such a bad thing if we went to the next level? I mean, _knowing_ how we both feel about the ones we’ve lost. As long as we’re honest about it and don’t expect the other person to fall for us, we could still have a relatively fulfilling sexual relationship. Someone to, um, let off a little steam with. You know?” 

Daniel stared at her, trying to be sure what she meant. “You mean, like… friends with benefits?” 

Shannon nodded, the need in her eyes real and deep. “Aye, I do. I wouldn’t ask just anyone, you understand. I _trust_ you, Danny love. I feel closer to you than to anyone at work. I just can’t see both of us being condemned to solitude for the rest of our lives because we can’t love anyone else.” She sighed and turned back to her book, ready for defeat. “But if you’re not interested, that’s okay, too.” 

Without looking back at him, she cleared her throat as her cheeks suffused with the most charming shade of pink. “Now, about those differences in the statues—“ 

He leaned toward her, catching her mouth unprepared, just as she’d been about to speak. She hesitated for a moment, her lips partly open. He took advantage and pressed her back, rolling her onto her back as he pulled himself closer. Her lips softened and accepted him, and his tongue stroked gently against hers. 

She sighed into his mouth, surrendering completely to his kiss. He dragged himself closer, pressing her down against the floor, putting one arm around her body, the other propping him up over her. He moved his palm up over her ribs, across her arm and shoulder to cradle her face. She kissed him back, teasing his lips and tongue with her own, stroking across his mouth with hers, suckling his tongue and lower lip until he groaned with pleasure. 

He hadn’t planned on doing this with her, but was glad it happened. She felt good beneath him, but he gave no thought to intimacy. He just wanted to kiss her, just to feel her against him, and that would be enough. 

Daniel couldn’t remember when he had ever spent so much time kissing. He was delirious with the sensation, his brain so full of endorphins it made him dizzy.  He didn’t want to stop, but eventually, he pulled away and looked down at her, a big smile plastered across his face. 

“I guess that’s a yes,” she observed breathlessly. “Are you sure you want to do this? Knowing there’s no commitment attached?” 

“I want you,” he whispered against her lips, capturing them again. “I want to be naked with you, kiss you all over—“

He felt her tense up beneath him, and the romantic mood vaporized. “Are _you_ sure?” 

“I just hadn’t planned on doing it _tonight_. I’m not… um, _prepared_ , exactly.” 

“No rush.” He kissed her cheek, nuzzled her neck and stroked his lips across her throat. She sighed delightedly, and put her arms around his shoulders, arching up beneath him. “We can still have a little fun right now.” 

She moaned. “Danny, I want…” 

His hand slipped under her shirt, cupping her breast and massaging the satin and lace of her bra. 

Shannon gasped, writhing on the floor with need. 

He stopped moving, just watching her as her eyes opened and she regarded him. He could see the desire flaming in those emerald depths, mixed with sadness. “Let me make you feel good,” he offered gently. “You’re right. We both need some of that. As much as we can get.” 

“Do I make you happy, Danny?” 

He kissed her in answer, took her hand and guided it to the center of his chest. He pressed it against his shirt, letting her feel his heartbeat for a moment, and then slid her palm lower, to the bulge she had made in his trousers. 

She chuckled out of the kiss. “I didn’t ask if I made you _horny_. I said _happy_.” 

He grinned as he tried to kiss her, his eyes still closed. “I enjoy being with you. I’m grateful for that.”

He took her breath away with another deep kiss, and when he pulled away again, the sadness was gone. Only need glittered in her eyes, and she nodded. 

“Have you got a condom? I guess I didn’t think that invitation through all the way.” She swallowed hard, waiting expectantly. 

“No. There’s always _coitus interruptus_.” 

“I don’t want to take _any_ chance on getting pregnant, love.” 

He smiled. “How do you feel about oral sex?” 

She grinned back. “Giving, or getting?” 

“Both.” 

“Tis always better to give than to receive,” she quipped. 

Daniel slid his hand down across her abdomen, heading lower, but she caught him and held him still. 

“I trust you, Danny,” she repeated softly. “More than anyone else I know. Let’s just keep in mind that we’re friends, underneath it all. No strings.  No commitment implied.” 

He knew how much that meant for Shannon, and nodded.

She released him, and he slipped his hand into the waistband of her shorts, reaching downward as he gazed into her eyes. He hesitated, his palm resting on her warm, soft belly, fingers splayed against her satin skin. That contact was enough. He could have stopped right there, but knew she wanted more. 

Shannon moved her legs apart, inviting him to touch her in that most intimate place. His fingertips stroked through the rough curls he couldn’t see, searching for more, and came to rest over her labia. Her eyes spoke volumes, anticipating how it would be with him. He probed her gently, groaning as her heat and wetness enveloped his fingers. Her eyes closed and she gasped, her hands clutching at his shoulders. 

He took her mouth again, letting his passion rise, demanding what he needed from her. She whimpered sweetly, her fingers massaging his back and shoulders. She pulled at his arm, drawing him more firmly into her depths. Daniel released her from his hungry kiss, his lips traveling instead to her throat, to the hollow of her neck. Her heartbeat thrummed against his mouth, quickening his own. His body throbbed with need but he ignored it, focusing his attention on hers instead. She gave him audible proof of the effect his touch was having, and it excited him. He wanted to make her scream with ecstasy. 

He withdrew from her sweetness long enough to unfasten her shorts. Rising to his knees, moving gingerly to avoid cramping his own swollen flesh, he pulled her shorts off and reached up to unbutton the sleeveless blue jean shirt she wore. The front clasp of her bra gave easily, and in moments she lay naked before him. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently, smoothing over her body with his hands, laying claim to her. 

“I want to see you, Danny,” she smiled. “Undress for me. I want to watch.” 

He grinned as he obeyed, pulling his T-shirt off over his head, moving slowly so she could enjoy the play of muscles as he moved. He was in the best shape of his life, his body hard from so much exercise, lean from inadequate appetite, and though he never thought about how he looked, apparently she was pleased. He adjusted his seat and took off his tennis shoes and socks before rising to his knees and unfastening his jeans. Pushing them down off his hips, she squealed with delight when she caught sight of his member, already stiff with desire. 

He blushed. “You like that?” 

“Oh, my,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp the heated column of flesh. “We can’t let this go to waste, Danny. It would be a bloody tragedy.” 

Gasping, he moved her hand back so he could finish taking off his pants. He rocked back onto his buttocks and slid the garment off over his feet, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Reclining beside her, he let his eyes and hands roam over her creamy skin, exploring all the curves and hollows he could see. 

“Shall we adjourn to the bedroom?” she asked softly, her hand sliding over his chest. 

“If you want, but I’m fine right here.” 

She leaned over and kissed him, pushing him back against the carpet. Her hungry mouth and hands explored him thoroughly, leaving him dizzy and weak. She captured his erection with her lips, kissing the tip passionately, and then sliding down the length of his shaft. He groaned and swore in Latin, and she chuckled around him. 

“I understood that,” she reminded him, grinning down at him. “No need to treat me like a lady at the moment, sweet man. Feel free to say anything you like while we’re naked. I enjoy a bit of cursing when I’m not in the office.” 

He couldn’t help smiling, until she took him into her mouth again. The delicious torture she visited upon him left him gasping and writhing on the floor, his hands tangled in her hair. At one point he raised his head and looked down at her, watching her lips engulf him, and the vision was so erotic he couldn’t control himself. He came, roaring with pleasure and passion, and then fell back bonelessly against the rug, smiling from ear to ear. 

She stretched out beside him and kissed his cheek, the scent of his orgasm on her breath. He turned to face her in surprise.

“You swallowed,” he observed softly. 

“I trust you,” she reiterated. “If you weren’t safe, you’d have told me. And you tasted wonderful.” 

He nodded. “Yeah. I’d have abstained if I weren’t safe.” 

She grinned. “See, _that’s_ why this can work. And once you’ve caught your breath, it’s _my_ turn.” Her hands stroked idly over his chest and arms, squeezing his biceps as her fingers smoothed over them. “You’ve got great arms, Danny.” 

He flexed a bicep for her. “I feel really silly, doing this,” he admitted. “I mean, in my whole life, nobody’s ever looked at me as a sex object. I’ve never been the physical type, ever, and here you are worshiping my body.” 

“Yeah, but your job keeps you in great shape,” she returned, and kissed the hard bulge of muscle. “And you are a delight to the eyes. And the mouth, and lots of other parts…” 

He rolled her over onto her back, just short of laughing.

This was fun, and he was immensely pleased that she had suggested it. For the first time in ages, he felt lightness in his soul again. The storm was finally passing inside him.

He kissed her senseless, and when he pulled away to let her catch her breath, he moved down to those other parts she had mentioned, and lavished a great deal of attention on them. When he finished she was still and quiet, utterly relaxed. She couldn’t even open her eyes, and he felt satisfied with his performance. 

When he thought he could trust his knees to support him, he reached for his clothes and began to dress.

Shannon just watched him, still smiling.

“Are we calling it a night?” she asked softly. 

“Nope. Just making a quick trip to the nearest drugstore,” he told her. “Because as much as we both enjoyed that, I don’t think it’s enough. Keep your engine running. I’ll be back.” 

He went out into the night and inside half an hour, he was knocking at her door, holding the box of condoms up beside his face so she could see them when she looked out the peephole.

Shannon was dressed in a little black satin and lace thing that barely covered her, but the sight was enough to arouse him all over again.

Daniel ripped open the box, tucked the strip of plastic packages between his teeth, and swept her up into his arms once she’d finished locking the door. In her bedroom, the covers were turned down and candles lit all around the bed.

She took the packages of condoms out of his mouth and kissed him. 

“I don’t plan on sleeping tonight,” he admitted, laying her out on the sheets. 

“Oh, I hope not,” she agreed enthusiastically. “I’ve got _years_ of sexual frustration to work out on you, Danny love, and it could take a while.” 

“Good. Hope you’re game for experimentation. I’ve studied the sexual practices of hundreds of cultures, and there are a lot of things I want to try.” 

“Oh, yes, please! And right now.” 

He descended upon her with a vengeance, and by sunrise he was so exhausted he could barely stand.

They managed to drag themselves out of the thoroughly rumpled bed and into the shower, dressed and shared a quick breakfast before driving in separately to the base.

Daniel worked through the day distracted, memories of the previous night calling to him, reminding him how sated he had been.

He felt good; better than he could remember. 

And he wanted more. 

On his lunch break, he headed down to Archives and prowled the aisles until he found her. Stealing up behind her, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She squealed and pushed him away, turning around to glare at him. 

“Damn it, Daniel, don’t _do_ that!” she hissed. 

“I missed you,” he explained, visions of naked Shannons inspiring him 

Her humor improved instantly, and she forgave him. “Just don’t sneak up behind me like that,” she ordered. “Next time, I might hurt you in a way neither of us would be happy with later.” She patted his crotch for emphasis. 

He dodged back from her hand, grinning madly. “Stop or you’ll give me a hard-on,” he teased, and gathered her into his arms. “Which wouldn’t be such a bad thing…” 

“Not _here_ ,” she said, slipping her arms around his shoulders, avoiding the back of his neck. “Someone could come in and catch us.” 

He glanced down the aisle, spied a door, and grinned. He kissed her soundly, and felt her knees give a little just before he pulled away. “There’s a storeroom over there. We could bar the door from the inside.” 

“Daniel Jackson! You can’t possibly have a drop of anything left, after last night—“ She giggled. 

“You’d be surprised,” he shot back, naughty ideas running rampant through his consciousness. “And I’ve got a condom in my pocket, if you’re interested.” 

She giggled, but shook her head. “Not in the workplace, Danny. I don’t want our sexual relationship to bleed over into our professional one.” 

“That’s gonna be…” He pressed himself against her belly. “…really hard.” 

“Save it for tonight,” she whispered into his ear. “You know where to find me.” 

“You’re not going dancing tonight?” 

She slipped her hand down between them and gave him a squeeze that made him groan. “Not as long as I’ve got that waiting for me,” she assured him. “I’ll dance between the sheets, thank you very much.” 

He smiled, kissed her again and stepped back to try to get his erection to go away. As long as he looked at her, it remained, so he gave her a quick peck and a promise to be over after work, and walked away. He took a moment on the next aisle to think of something boring and try to relax, and by the time he made it to the elevator he was back into work mode. 

When his shift ended he was bone tired, hungry and barely able to maintain a coherent thought. He piled into his car and drove home, fed his cat and called Shannon to invite her to come to his place for the night instead, since he had a bigger bed.

He poured two glasses of wine while he waited for her, but was so drowsy by the time she arrived that he begged off the marathon he had planned.

She understood, gave him a hug and returned home alone.

Daniel took himself to bed and went to sleep straight away, relaxed and satisfied with life. 

Until the dreams began again.

 

* * *

 

 

**May 1**

**Storehouse of the Ancients Lab, Stargate Command**

“Beginning,” Daniel read. “Calm? Peace?” He studied the dance script, certain he’d found the starting point for the story, just beneath the picture glyph. “Hmmmm.” 

He closed his eyes. “In the beginning, there was peace.” He opened his eyes and shook his head. “This is hard.” 

“Be patient. We’re making progress.” Logan pointed to another section. “You nailed this piece, where it talks about the Ancients’ journey. But where’s the entrance?” 

“I want to start from the _beginning_ ,” he said, a note of irritation clear in his voice. “Right here.” He put his finger on the poster, just below the glyph. “Outward movement. Brightness or light. The center of something. Open hands gesturing outward. Scattering…” 

“Okay. Let’s put this in the tone of ancient storytelling and go back over that,” Logan suggested. “Shannon, will you do the honors?” 

Doctor Murphy sighed and acted out the gestures pictured in the script on the posters while Daniel and Logan looked on. 

In the beginning, there was peace. Out of the bright center, all things were born, and scattered to the ends of the universe. Peace became chaos. Chaos became Life, in a multitude of beautiful diversity. 

“Wow. Meaning of Life stuff?” asked Logan. 

“Maybe,” Daniel replied thoughtfully. “Why don’t we record Shannon dancing the whole thing, so she doesn’t have to keep repeating herself?” 

“Thank you. I think.” Shannon sighed. “I still don’t know how I’m doing all this. Those symbols might as well be Greek to me.” She frowned. “Even though I speak fluent Greek. You know what I mean.” 

Daniel flexed a sympathetic grin. “Yeah. But you’re the _key_. Remember? The Furlings made you the repository for all this. They sent you to us, to get us started on the journey.” 

“It just took us six bloody years to get the message,” the redhead grouched. “Can I at least have some music? I feel positively daft doing this in silence.” 

“Sure thing. Go get your tunes, and I’ll set up the camera.” Logan got up to fetch the tripod and video camera, returning to where she had left Doctor Jackson. “She’s still pretty spooked about Sha’r, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah. But at least we’re still friends. I wasn’t sure she was ever going to speak to me again, for a couple of days.” 

“She knows you didn’t do it to hurt her. You’re not like that. And besides, Hammond would never have approved the mission unless your idea had merit. And _et voila_ , it did.” She aimed the camera and checked the height of the captured scene. “Be my stand-in?” 

Daniel obliged. “The next hurdle will be getting her to agree to go through the Stargate again.” 

Logan straightened, meeting his eyes. “You’re not kidding, are you? Why would you want to make her do that?” 

“We have to go back to Siraket.” He swallowed hard, closing his eyes against the grief welling up inside him. “ _Both_ of us.” 

She gripped his shoulders. “You don’t have to do that, DJ.” 

He dropped his gaze floor, then glanced back at her. “Yeah,” he said tightly. “I do. _We_ do. Shannon’s the key. The only way she’ll go through that ‘gate is… if I go with her. She trusts me.” 

Logan nodded, her expression grim. “Then you better have a talk with your team.” 

“About what?” Shannon asked, breezing back into the lab with her MP3 player and headphones. 

“Just an update. That we’re making progress.” Daniel glanced away, rather than meet her eyes. 

“Something bothering you, Danny?” Shannon asked, concern in her voice and face. 

“Being alive,” he shot back without thinking. 

Both women looked aghast.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” 

Shannon hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Let’s stay busy. Okay?” 

He nodded, and stood well behind her, out of the video, watching while she danced the story on the walls to music only she could hear.

 

* * *

 

 

 **May 27**

“Thanks for coming,” Daniel said, taking a stance at the back of Jack’s office.

The Colonel sat behind his desk sipping the coffee Daniel had brought for everyone. Teal’c manned the guest chair, and Sam took a seat on the corner of the desk. 

“What’s this all about?” she asked. 

“I’m asking for a mission,” Daniel began. “And before anybody says anything to shoot me down, I need to explain why… we have to go back to Siraket.” 

He stole a glance at Jack’s face and got the expected reaction.

”Oh, fer cryin’ out loud, Daniel! Anywhere but there!” 

“That’s the one place we _really_ have to go, Jack,” he argued back.

His hand went automatically to the back of his neck, rubbing over the scar. “See, I know what Anubis was protecting there. I just… I just couldn’t tell anybody. But the more we’ve worked on the translation of the dance script, the more I know it’s just a smoke screen. Just a distraction to keep somebody curious interested, but it doesn’t really tell us what’s so important about that place.” 

Jack gave a heavy, irritated sigh. “You wanna elaborate on that and stop dancin’ around what you wanna say?” 

Daniel stopped pacing and stared at his boots, his hand at rest on the nape of his neck.

He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and began to read aloud to them _._

 _“In the beginning, there was peace. Out of the bright center, all things were born and scattered to the ends of the universe. Peace became chaos. Chaos became Life, in a multitude of beautiful diversity. From this, four great races came to be. When they found peace in themselves, they went in search of each other. During their travels, the Ancients met many who were too young to understand the meaning of peace, and so they built roads to help them find each other, and to grow. The Four Races built a great hall where all might exchange ideas and for a time, they watched over the Young.”_

“Ernest’s planet,” Sam guessed. “So I guess you’ve got the script from that Siraketan temple translated?” 

Daniel held up a finger to silence her and went on _. “But the Young did not always listen to wise counsel, and many grew hurtful and brought great sorrow to others among them. The Ancients grew weary of conflict and when their pain became too great, they withdrew to another space, where discord could not follow. Here is the door to the Ancients, for all who seek their wisdom.”_

“So _that’s_ why Anubis thought the place was important,” Jack added. “Reckon he was planning to bust down the door somehow?” 

Jackson shook his head and straightened the paper noisily, drawing their attention back to it.

“There’s more, Jack.”

He cleared his throat.

 _“Know this, Seekers. Your journey does not end here. It is but beginning. Find what the Ancients have left for you.  Open this last door, and the worthy shall prevail. From great conflict a peace bringer shall arise, one whose heart is divided between good and evil, and from this one the Fifth Race shall spring. Peace will return, and all Seekers will travel in safety, to share, to learn and to grow. Be welcome in this sacred place.”_

“Only Anubis got to the goodies first,” Jack observed. 

Daniel cleared his throat again and busied his eyes with the paper in his hand rather than look at his CO. “And now Osiris has all the cool toys.” 

“Which screws us to the wall,” Jack snarled. 

“That pretty much says it all,” Daniel agreed. “He only left harmless gadgets behind.” 

“Which we’re already discovering are freakin’ awesome!” Sam’s quiet enthusiasm made him look up to see her smile and bright, interested eyes. “When do we go?” 

Jack glared at her. “Now, wait a minute…” 

“Major Carter is right to be so ready to explore this possibility,” Teal’c agreed. “The Ancients could offer us the answer to the Goa’uld threat.” 

“Oh, why the hell not? The Goa’uld are using all the weapons the Ancients left behind,” Daniel snarled. He raised his head and looked at the others. “Sorry. I’m just not—Never mind.” 

Sam got up and came over to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Daniel. We know this isn’t easy. It’s going to be really hard for you to go back there. We get that. But we’re here for you.” 

Daniel nodded and returned his gaze to the floor. “Yeah. I know. And I appreciate that. But I have to warn you that we could be there a while. And whether we succeed or fail may depend on Doctor Shannon Murphy.” 

“The Archives gal?” Sam asked. “What does she have to do with this?” 

With a sigh of resignation, he told them the whole tale, holding back nothing this time.

“Shannon is the key. What we can’t figure out _here_ , we have to do _there_. I know what the most important symbols are from their positioning, but haven’t been able to make sense of any of them yet. And I think the only way I can do that is to go back to Siraket.”

He imagined himself stepping through the event horizon onto that world, seeing the mountain and the statue again from the foot of the Stargate.

A lump formed in his throat, and other images threatened to engulf him.

He shuddered violently. 

He didn’t hear Jack or Teal’c get up and walk over to him, but when he turned around and looked up, his teammates were right there. 

“When do you wanna do this?” Jack asked quietly. 

It took Daniel a full minute to make his voice work again. “I… I have to get Shannon to cooperate first. It won’t do us any good to try to open the door without the key, and she’s it. That’s why the Furlings took her. I just need to make her understand…” 

Sam shook her head. “I’m not sure you can get her to go. She’s terrified of going through the ‘gate again.” 

“She will understand the importance of the mission,” Teal’c assured them all. “She will go because she _must_.” 

“I’m not sure _I_ can do it,” Daniel added. “But I’m damn sure gonna try. And I’ll let you know whether the mission’s a go or not after I talk to Shannon.” 

“I’ll brief General Hammond,” Jack confirmed. “If necessary, he can order her through.” 

“No. I want her to agree,” Daniel shot back.

He pondered how best to deliver the message, considering how she’d responded to his announcement about the mission to Sha’r a few weeks back, and decided a little buttering up would be necessary.

Which brought something else to mind, and he smiled a little as he lifted his head.

“I think I may have a way to convince her, but I’ll let you know if it works. Just don’t any of you say anything to her about it, okay?” 

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “So when do I get to meet this woman, anyway?” 

“Later, Jack,” said Daniel. “First things first.” 

“What about this ‘peace bringer’? He’s got to be human, since the Asgard told us we were next in line,” Jack mused. “We sure could use this guy’s help, if we can find him. Any ideas where we should look?” 

“Hopefully, the Ancients can give us some pointers once we meet them face to face,” Daniel murmured. “But I’m not so sure he’s a ‘from-Earth’ human. He could be from any of the colonies the Goa’uld planted out there. Could be alien, too. The script just says the Fifth Race will spring _from him_.”

He shrugged. “Maybe he’ll be a great teacher or leader, and show us how to reach our potential.” 

Teal’c regarded the humans thoughtfully. “The script also says the Peace Bringer’s heart will be divided between good and evil. We all have this capacity. I believe it will be difficult to find the one of whom this prophecy speaks.” 

“That’s what we need to see the Ancients for,” Sam agreed. She patted Daniel on the shoulder. “So go talk to Shannon, and if you need any support, let me know. Maybe I could help.” 

Daniel flexed a polite smile at her. “Uh, thanks, but I’ve already got a method in mind.”

He tucked the paper into his jacket pocket again and left the room, guilt weighing heavy on his conscience.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel lay on his bed, entwined with Shannon’s arms and legs.

She was idly stroking his forearm, her breathing gradually calming down to normal.

He had satisfied her numerous times, but held back from his own pleasure. He figured she’d need a little coaxing to commit to the deal he wanted to make.

He wasn’t above using sex to get what he wanted, and nuzzled her cheek with his nose. 

“Feel good?” he asked softly. 

“Fishing for compliments, Danny?” She turned to him and grinned. 

He let go a pleased breath. “No. You tell me plainly enough when I’m doing it right.” He studied the curve of her neck, at the pulse beating there so he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye.

“Can we talk about something for a minute?” 

“Uh oh.” She dodged back on the pillow until she could see his eyes. “That sounds like trouble.” 

Daniel felt guilty, but this had to be done.

“You know what happened to me on Siraket,” he began, pushing the memories back. “It’s not a place I want to ever see again. You know?” 

Her expression sobered. “Aye, love. I know.  I can’t begin to imagine what you must be going through, but if you ever want to talk about it—“ 

He shook his head and just said it. “I have to go back.” 

She was horrified. “Whatever for? We have all the research materials we need—“ 

“Because I can’t do what needs to be done from here, Shannon. I have to be _on_ Siraket to finish the research.”

He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his emotional balance as the thought of actually stepping back onto that planet coalesced in his imagination.

Then he dealt the next blow, already regretting this plan. “Will you come with me?” 

Shannon sat up quickly, pulling the sheet up to her chest like a shield. “Danny, I can’t! You know that.” 

Daniel pushed himself upright, kneeling on the sheets. 

Fear radiated off her in waves that he could feel without trying.

He took a deep breath and let it out as he bowed his head. “I know. But I _have_ to go there. And I… I need… I need you. The only way to conquer your demons is to _face_ them. Please?”

Guilt and regret knotted up in his belly. 

“You’ll have Colonel O’Neill, and Sam and Teal’c with you, Danny,” she argued, her auburn eyebrows twitching together. “Why do you need me?” 

“I know how hard it will be for you to do it,” he answered slowly. “It’s _nothing_ for them. They go through the Stargate all the time without a second thought. So do I… but not to _that_ place. I’ll go anywhere _but_ there. Only—“

Mental images assaulted him. He sat on the bed, raising his knees and clasping his arms lightly around them, huddling in on himself.

“That place is my worst nightmare, Shannon. Going back will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I need… I.” His breath hitched. “I need someone with me who really _understands_ that.” 

“I can’t. God! How can you ask me to—“ Her voice was shaking. She was on the verge of tears. 

“I’m sorry,” he said instantly, and reached for her to pull her into his arms. “Forget it. I’ll be okay.”

He lay down again, holding her against his chest and idly stroking her hair.

He thought he’d used the right words to convince her, to distract her into helping him and forgetting her own distress about ‘gate travel, but there had been more truth to his plea than he’d realized when he’d concocted this plan.

Every word rang true in his heart, and now he dreaded the trip even more. “I had no right to ask you to do that, Shannon. I’m sorry.” He kissed her hair and just held her, his interest in finishing their sex play now completely gone. 

She lay half on top of him, still and silent, until he moved out from beneath her to rise and stroll toward the door to the living room.

He was barely aware that he was naked, his thoughts turning toward Siraket and the job left to do there.

No one could do it but him, because no one else knew what was there, waiting to be discovered. 

He sat down on the sofa and stared at the wall, images and memories running through his mind at breakneck speed.

He bent forward and rested his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands.

He realized he was shaking, terrified of the prospect of returning to that place. 

“Danny.” 

He looked up at her, standing just beside his knee.

Shannon was wrapped in a sheet she had taken from his bed, looking beautiful, tousled and sad. He leaned back against the cushions and just looked at her, at how lovely she was. He needed that distraction desperately. 

“If it means that much to you… I’ll go.” 

“You don’t have to. I’ll be all right.” He stared at the wall again, dread eating him alive. 

Shannon straddled his lap and sat astride him, her knees on the sofa cushions beside him.

“I know what you were trying to do, love,” she admitted, her voice a husky whisper. “You were going to seduce me into a bargain, weren’t you?” 

He nodded, his eyes focused on the sheet held closed at her chest with one hand. “I’m sorry. That was cruel of me. I shouldn’t have tried to trick you.” 

“But it’s more than that, now, isn’t it? You meant what you said. I can see it in the way you hold yourself, like you’re about to shake apart.” 

“Yes. I didn’t know it till I said it. I won’t make you do that, Shannon. It’s not fair. I’ll… I’ll figure it out alone.” 

“No, it’s not fair. But you really _do_ need me for this, don’t you?” Her free hand touched his face, stroking across his cheek. Her fingertips touched his lips, caressing them gently. 

He didn’t answer.

_All he could see was darkness._

_All he could hear were screams._

_The storm was rising again._

“I’ll go,” she whispered. 

Daniel leaned his bowed head against her chest and just held her.

“Think about what we just did in your bed, Danny love. Remember how you made me scream. Hold onto me. I’ll be right here with you.” 

She sat there, stroking his face and holding him close for a while.

When he calmed, she made him rise and return to bed to sleep.

True to her word, she stayed. 

Hours later, Daniel awakened in the grip of another nightmare, Shannon instantly awake beside him. Her arms went around him and she cradled him against her, whispering soft words of comfort and peace, promising to be with him for as long as he needed her.

Panting and terrified, he lay back against the pillows, the weight of her head on his chest anchoring him to sanity.

In time her eyes closed and her breathing relaxed into the rhythm of sleep.

He toyed with the copper locks spread out over his body, her hair black in the near darkness, her arms still embracing him. 

_Egeria._

Daniel’s eyes shifted to the ceiling as the name echoed in his mind. 

He cast back through his mind for the Stargate address where they had made their secret home, but that secret belonged to Anubis and Daniel couldn’t get to it. The Goa’uld had spawned a nation of willing hosts to serve them in their private paradise, and as far as Anubis knew, Ra had never found it.

Egeria returned to Earth alone, thousands of years later, to serve as advisor to Numa Pompilius and incite rebellion against Ra.

By then, their children had found hosts and spread out fight against the Goa’uld in tribute to their dead mother. 

Daniel closed his eyes and imagined Taweret, smooth and pale in the darkness, her skin glowing with natural phosphorescence. He remembered making love to her the first time, how pleased she had been with his new human host rather than the Unas body he’d worn when they first met. And he had known when he touched her, when she’d set the night aglow, that she had loved him. 

His arms closed around the sleeping woman. 

“Danny,” she sighed without waking. 

He didn’t answer, because Daniel Jackson had not heard her. 

_Anubis_ had.

 

* * *

 

 

 **May 30**

“Hey, Teal’c,” Major Carter called with a wide smile as the Jaffa entered her laboratory. 

He saw she was already involved in a conversation with Doctor Logan about the trip to the Furling homeworld, but that conversation appeared to be winding down. He busied himself with prowling around the various counters, giving a cursory glance at the experiments in progress.

He meandered over to her desk, taking note of the plants she kept there. One had wide, thick leaves with little hair-like projections on them and bloomed with small, dark purple flowers. Beside that was a small rectangular dish in which a tiny tree grew. He contemplated the shape of the tree, how its branches swept up and over to one side, giving the impression that it had been blown that way by a strong, steady wind. 

He thought it was lovely, but its symmetry was marred by one small branch growing beneath the others. Teal’c reached beneath and pinched it off as gently as possible, then surveyed the results. He approved immediately. 

“That looks a lot better,” Logan told him as she approached. “I brought that to Sam to see if she could nurse it back to health. See how it’s going brown in places? I’m not much with the green thumb, and I know Sam’s really good with plants, so I thought I’d let her work with it for a while.” 

“You’ve got a good eye for shape,” Carter agreed. “Maybe you could prune it up a little, make it pretty before I put it in my plant hospital.” 

“Perhaps I might care for it temporarily,” he suggested. “You could enlighten me on your methods.” 

Sam grinned. “Okay. Could be a nice hobby for you.” 

Logan gave him a little tap on the shoulder. “I can see you with plants, Big Guy. You’ve taken to _ikebana_ beautifully, and there’s something peaceful about working the soil. It’s life-affirming, too. Something diametrically opposed to being a warrior.” 

“Better to be a warrior in a garden, than a gardener in a war,” the Jaffa stated sagely. 

“Ooooh, that’s deep,” Logan gushed with a big smile. “Take care of it for me, okay?”

“I shall.” 

Logan departed with a wave, and Teal’c turned to his teammate.

“I am concerned about this mission to Siraket,” he said quietly. “I do not think it will be good for Daniel Jackson.” 

Sam sobered and nodded in agreement. “He seems to think there’s something awfully important there. The Tok’ra did, too, or they wouldn’t have asked for him.” 

“But is it worth the price he will pay by going back there?” 

Her eyes filled with fear and grief. “It’s been seven months since we got him back, and he’s still so fragile, Teal’c. He tries to act like he’s okay, but I can see it every time I look at him. I’ve never seen anybody in such constant pain.” 

“It is good that he has returned to participation in off-world missions,” he agreed. “It helps him, the more his mind is occupied.”

Teal’c studied the little tree. “But like you, I also fear for Daniel Jackson. At times it seems a challenge for him to simply draw breath. I have tried to imagine how he must feel, but my mind can only brush the surface of his experience with Anubis.”

He put the little pot in his large hand. “He is strong, Major Carter. Perhaps the strongest man I know, for all that he is so gentle.” 

Tears gathered in her eyes and she smiled at him. “That was beautiful, Teal’c. And I agree. He’s a pretty special guy.” She embraced him briefly. “We’ll help him get through this. Together, we’ll find a way.” She kissed his cheek and pulled away, glancing at the plant. “So is this next on your list of hobbies?” 

Teal’c lifted the pot to eye level and turned it, looking at it from several angles. “I have tried model building, needle work, pottery, painting and sculpture. Colonel O’Neill attempted to teach me to play the guitar once. He has also tried to teach me hockey and other sports. However, I have not yet discovered any pursuit I might enjoy for an extended period.”

He lowered the plant and met her curious gaze. “I shall continue to search for a hobby that suits my nature.” 

“You’ll find something eventually,” she agreed. “Maybe this’ll be the one.” She gently squeezed some of the foliage and pressed her fingertips against the soil. “It needs water, for one thing. Let me tell you what I know about bonsai, which isn’t a lot, but I can direct you to some places online where you can get some good info on plant care.” 

“I would be grateful,” he assured her, and listened to her instruction carefully.

A few minutes later he was on the way back to his quarters to log onto the Internet for more plant care tips.

He passed by Daniel Jackson’s office and peered in, just to check on him. 

The man sat at his desk writing in a small journal, but he was using his left hand. 

Teal’c knew Daniel Jackson was right-handed, and that puzzled him.

He studied the man’s expression, intent and filled with anger.

He must have felt that he was being observed, because his gaze shifted upward, toward the doorway. 

“You wanted something, Jaffa?” he demanded. His voice was unnaturally deep, and the human _never_ used that form of address on his teammate. 

That told Teal’c exactly who was speaking. He stepped into the room. 

“Anubis is dead,” he observed quietly. “How is it that you still command this body?” 

His expression altered suddenly, relaxing into the placid kindness that was innately Daniel.

“He doesn’t command me, Teal’c,” the archaeologist assured him quietly. “This is something Doctor Romani asked me to do.” He patted the journal. “Maybe if he’s allowed to speak his mind in these pages, he’ll eventually leave me alone.” 

Teal’c’s jaws clenched. He knew better than that. Once a Goa’uld took a host, if any trace of it remained, it would struggle constantly for control. That was the very nature of the beast, to dominate and own.

Grief sliced through him, and he felt his eyes fill. “I wish you peace, Daniel Jackson,” he murmured softly, and gave him a polite bow. 

“Thanks,” the man answered with a flexed, insincere smile. “See you at the briefing later.” 

The Jaffa withdrew as he returned to work, disturbed by the encounter. He carried the plant to his quarters, watered it and left it there for a few minutes.

Heading for Doctor Romani’s office, he made an appointment to speak with the psychiatrist about what had happened, and express his concerns about the therapy that had been recommended. Perhaps the doctor needed a fresh perspective on the Goa’uld, so he would understand just how dangerous keeping that journal might be for Daniel Jackson. 

Teal’c was afraid that, if the shadow of Anubis was allowed control of his host even briefly, it might become a habit too difficult to break.

If that happened, the ghost of the symbiote stood an excellent chance of permanent influence on the human’s mind… and perhaps grow into the opportunity to dominate his psyche once more.

 

* * *

 

 **May 31**

“He won’t bite, you know,” Daniel assured Shannon as he ushered her down the hallway toward his CO’s office. “You don’t have to be afraid of him.” 

“I’m not afraid of him,” Shannon pouted. “I’m just… really not ready to face the fact that I’m going through that bloody thing again. Meeting Colonel O’Neill is just… fallout.” 

“Well, it won’t be for a few more days, so try to relax. Okay? We’ll do something fun in between, to take your mind off it.” 

“Such as?” She paused outside the door, and let him open it for her. 

He didn’t elaborate and followed her inside the office, closing the door after them. He gestured her into the guest chair, offering a polite smile and a little wave to Jack as he sat behind the desk, coffee cup headed for his mouth. “Shannon, this is Colonel Jack O’Neill. Jack, Doctor Shannon Murphy.” 

_“Slainte_ , Murphy,” said Jack congenially, lifting his coffee cup a little higher as a toast. 

_“Erin go bragh_ , O’Neill,” she returned. 

Daniel glanced between them, brows drawn together in confusion. 

“It’s an Irish thing. Never mind.” Jack sipped his coffee and looked at the report on his desk. “General Hammond says this thing is a go. When are you kids gonna be ready to head out?” 

“Tomorrow,” Daniel confirmed. 

“What?” Shannon demanded, rounding on him and standing up again. “You said a couple of days! I was counting on that. I’ve got to get me bloody head together—“ 

“If we just do it and get it over with—“ 

“Now, kids, don’t fight,” Jack cut in. “I’m in charge, and I’ll decide when we go.” 

Both of them turned to him, waiting for orders. 

He grinned. “What say we get changed and packed, and go _right now_?” 

Daniel rolled his eyes, knowing the Colonel had just blown it. 

Shannon went off, her voice raised in a stream of Irish Gaelic, hands flying around in the air to punctuate what she was saying. 

Daniel grabbed her by the shoulders and steered her toward the door without slowing down her diatribe. “Gee, _thanks_ , Jack. Now I get to deal with _this.”_

O’Neill turned his attention back to the report. “You’re welcome. Now neither one of you has to stew about it. We just go. I’ll call Carter and round up Teal’c. See you in the ‘gate room in two hours.” 

“I gotta make arrangements for someone to feed my cat,” Daniel called back just before the door closed. He felt relieved that it was settled, that they were going. He’d developed a regular list of people he called on to take care of Zoe for him, and that detail could be handled in a matter of minutes.

All he had left to do was make sure Shannon didn’t back out.

For that, he’d have to get ready fast and ride herd on her.

And hope she didn’t kill him once they got there.  


* * *

 

 

SG-1 stood ready in the embarkation room, ‘gate open and wormhole established.

Daniel glanced toward the door impatiently, then hurried over to it and pushed it open.

Shannon stood against the corridor wall, her face buried in her hands.

She was crying. 

“Hey,” he called gently, and caught her by the arm. “We’ve gotta go, Shannon. It’s time. The event horizon’s set.” 

She let her pull him into the embarkation room and stood still, staring at the floor while the heavy steel door closed.

He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the ramp, but as soon as she set foot on it, her body went rigid, her head snapped up and she stared at the undulating watery surface with sheer terror in her eyes. 

“No! I can’t! Daniel, I can’t. I can’t do this—“ 

He grasped her by the shoulders and turned her around, putting her back to the event horizon, planting himself right in front of her.

“Yes, you _can_ , Shannon. We talked about this. We _have_ to go. It’ll be all right, because I’ll be right there with you. I promised.” 

She wasn’t listening. Her eyes were black with unreasoning fear, and her whole body was quivering.

Daniel maintained eye contact, walking her backward slowly toward the Stargate.

He nodded at Jack to get the rest of the team started toward the opening. In his peripheral vision he saw them pass through, and knew that the wormhole would be shutting down soon. He could feel her starting to push back against him, to resist his gentle pressure moving her steadily toward the passageway. 

“I can’t, Daniel!” she wailed, pushing against him in earnest now, doing her best to edge past him and get away. 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “As long as I don’t think about where I’m going, I’ll be fine. But once we get there…” 

When he squeezed her shoulders, she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Carry me,” she whispered. “I can’t go there myself.” 

Daniel clenched his teeth and lifted her off her feet.

Eyes on the event horizon, he counted the steps as he went up the ramp.

Just before they touched the watery surface, Shannon started to cry and huddled in on herself, making her body as tiny as she could manage.

And then they were there, on that world where so many horrible things had happened. 

Shannon pitched out of his arms, scrambling for balance. In a moment of panic, she rushed back toward the dissipating event horizon. He blocked the way with his body until it had vanished, calling her name with tenderness he didn’t have to spare. 

A panic attack of his own was imminent – he could feel the fear rising – but Shannon had completely lost her shit and that had to be addressed before anything else. 

He glanced around for help, but the new camp was a good distance away from the ‘gate. People had taken notice of the screaming woman. The rest of the team were on their way back but he was about to lose his grip on her and needed to act now. 

Reaching into his trouser pocket, his fingers slipped neatly into the golden cage, the amber jewel snuggling against his palm as if it belonged there.

He withdrew his right hand, holding onto Shannon’s arm with his left.

With hardly any effort at all, he activated the ribbon device and held it over her forehead. 

“Hey!” Jack shouted, running up to them. “What the fuck!”

He drew his sidearm, thumbed the safety off and pointed it right at Daniel’s forehead.

“Let her go, Daniel,” he ordered harshly, “and then you give me that goddamn thing! Where the hell’d you get it, anyway?” 

Daniel’s eyes flashed to meet the other man’s.

“It’s mine,” he bit out angrily. “I _inherited_ it.”

Shannon was quiet now, her face slack, eyes blank.

“And I’m not hurting her. I’m just keeping her calm till we can get her some help. Have Sam send a call for Doctor Romani, please. ASAP.” 

“You don’t know what that thing does,” Jack shot back furiously. “You could be _killing_ her! Cut it off, Daniel. Right now, or I’ll put a hole in you!” 

Daniel didn’t take his eyes off the woman in his grasp. He let go of her arm and gently stroked her cheek, but when he spoke again, his voice was calm and aimed at his CO.

“I know _exactly_ what I’m doing, Jack. I’ve got her in an alpha state, sort of like being in a dream, and it isn’t doing any damage. I _swear_ it. I’m trying to help her. She’s freaking out, or hadn’t you noticed that?”

He shot a glance at the Colonel. “We need to get her some help, or she might go so far out we can’t get her back. Will you please move your stubborn ass and send for the doctor, like I asked?” 

Jack didn’t look away, but barked the order to Carter.

An audience was gathering around them, most of them stunned to see one of their own using a Goa’uld ribbon device. Nobody moved for the minutes it took for Daniel’s request to be processed, during which time he continued to hold Shannon under the sway of the device while Jack kept the gun trained on his forehead. 

Listening for the _kawoosh_ , Daniel didn’t look away from his girlfriend until Doctor Romani rolled up in his wheelchair, medical bag in his lap. 

“She needs some kind of tranquilizer,” Daniel told him, still keeping the device in play. “She totally lost it coming through the ‘gate. I’m holding her in an alpha state till you can give her something else that’ll help. Let me know when I can stop.” 

Doctor Romani glanced up at the Colonel. “You verify that, sir?” he asked as he reached into his bag and drew up a syringe. 

O’Neill nodded curtly. “Yeah. She was screamin’ her head off. Tried to run back through the ‘gate before it closed.” 

Adam nodded. “Roll up her sleeve, please, Colonel.” 

Jack put away his gun and complied as quickly as possible. Once the medication was delivered, Romani took her pulse. 

“I’m stopping this,” Daniel said tightly. “I don’t like using this thing.”

The bright yellow light in the device began to fade, and Shannon started to grow agitated again. 

As the medication took effect, she quieted and he gathered her in his arms. 

“Gimme that damn device,” Jack snarled, holding out his hand. 

Daniel glared at him, slipped his hand into his trouser pocket and left it in there. “It’s _mine_ ,” he growled back. “I brought it in case the Goa’uld attack again. I can use it, Jack. But I won’t unless I have to.” 

Jack’s hand remained in the air, silently demanding obedience to his order. 

Narrowing his eyes, Daniel challenged, “What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me anymore?”

He lifted Shannon off her feet and carried her toward the camp. 

“Carter, Teal’c, show Daniel where the infirmary is.” 

They jogged to catch up to their friend. 

People got out of Jackson’s way, giving him a wide berth. 

O’Neill stared after his friend with grim uncertainty. “What’d’ya think, Doc? _Should_ we trust him?” 

“You’d know the answer to that better than I would, Colonel. Think about it.” He started to wheel back toward the ‘gate, but Jack laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maybe you might wanna stick around for a day or two, make sure Doc Murphy settles in okay,” he suggested. “She might need s’more medication or somethin’.” 

Romani’s eyes were solemn, measuring. “Daniel scares you, doesn’t he?” 

“Shitless,” Jack replied without hesitation. “Doc, I’m not sure who he is anymore. I don’t know how much of what I’m seein’ now is Anubis and how much is just Daniel in more pain than he can handle. How the hell do I help him when I can’t even _talk_ to him anymore? Hell, I nearly put a bullet in his brain just now! What kind of friend is that?” 

“One who understands the threat he was as Anubis,” Romani answered quietly. “And since this is all very new in my field, I’m not sure how to answer those questions, either. I mean, not many psychiatrists have the chance to psychoanalyze a person who’s been host to an alien consciousness.” 

“Oh, great.” Jack threw up his hands. “You’re clueless. That’s just peachy!” 

Romani gave a shy chuckle. “Not exactly. Sir, my best advice, at this point, is to do your best to treat Daniel like _Daniel_. He’s trying very hard to be himself, and not succeeding very often. If he’s going to find his way back, he needs that familiarity and trust, as much as you can give him. Try not to jump to conclusions, unless you have reason. There seems to be a pattern of people doing that to him, and it hurts him more than you can imagine.” 

“What’d’ya mean?” Jack asked, but he knew the answer already. It cut deeply that this near stranger had discovered that truth in such a short time.

O’Neill was embarrassed. 

The good doctor pretended not to notice. “Doctor Jackson seems to know himself relatively well. When something’s wrong, he does his best to tell someone. Unfortunately, not a lot of folks listen. That’s happened to him pretty much all his life. He’s beginning to lose patience with people and not give them a chance to ignore him. He’s acting on impulse guided by past conditioning, and not always making good decisions.” 

Jack put on a dumbfounded expression. “So, you’re saying I should listen to him more?” 

Romani nodded. “Give it a try. You might surprise both of you.”

He glanced around the camp. “So where should I bunk? I’ll need to send back to the base for some things.”

A wide smile crept across his face. His eyes lit up, and he almost laughed. “You know, I never thought I’d _ever_ have the opportunity to set wheels off world, Colonel. All I can say is, it’s a damn good thing MacKenzie was at that seminar in Washington this week! Thanks.” He extended his hand, and shook the Colonel’s warmly. 

O’Neill was starting to like this guy a lot, but had a reputation to protect. 

“Yeah. Right,” he growled in mock irritation. “I’ll get Carter to set you up somewhere. She probably knows more about what you’ll need than anybody else.” 

Sam was already jogging back toward them. “Maybe you could even share her tent or somethin’.” 

Romani’s face lit up. “I thought you were opposed to the relationship?” 

Jack gave him a hard look. “Like I said, you break her heart, I break your head. But no, I’m not opposed to her having a good life. See that you give her one.” 

“Yes, sir, Colonel O’Neill, sir! I’ll do my best. But right now, I think I should check on my patients.” 

All three of them headed for the infirmary Quonset hut. 

“By the way, Colonel…” Romani hesitated. “May I call you Jack?” 

O’Neill nodded, just once, his attention on the memory of his friend with that ribbon device. It turned his stomach. 

“I’ve been studying up on Goa’uld technology, and I believe Daniel did the right thing. He cares very much about Doctor Murphy. He wouldn’t hurt her.” 

Carter smiled between the two men, and escorted Doctor Romani to the hut. 

Once again, Jack had mistrusted Daniel at the wrong moment. 

“I gotta stop doin’ that,” he murmured, and made his way to the command center for a situation report. He kicked a rock and sent it flying. His mind kept turning over what Daniel had done, and what Romani had said about him. In his heart, he knew it was all true. 

_Of course_ Daniel was frustrated! He’d taken that kind of unintentional abuse from everyone until he couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe being invaded by Anubis gave him the strength to rise up against it. Maybe the pressure he was under left Daniel no patience to put up with that crap anymore.

Whatever the reason, it could well be a good change, if Jack gave him a little credit.

But old habits died hard, and seeing that device on Daniel’s hand, fully charged and being used on another human being had provoked an instantaneous gut-wrenching reaction. It gave him the creeps. 

When he had everything in order, he went to the infirmary and stepped inside. 

Daniel sat cross-legged on the floor beside a cot where Shannon lay sleeping, holding her hand. Those blue eyes were instantly suspicious and on guard.

“Hi, Jack. She’s okay. Doctor Romani says she’ll probably sleep through the night, but I’m bunking in here with her, just in case.” 

“Yeah. Can you come outside for a minute? I’d like to have a little chat.” 

With a weary sigh, Daniel pushed to his feet and ducked out the door with Jack in tow. Once they were outside, Jack put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “You just—I wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t even know you _had_ one of those… things.” 

Daniel shrugged his hand off as they walked, meandering beside the stream toward the ocean.

“I know I should’ve told somebody. It’s just… it was personal. From Reyenne.”

He sighed and hung his head.

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone if I didn’t have to use it. And I was only planning to use the ribbon device on its makers.”

He swallowed hard. “I know what these devices do now, Jack. Not how they work exactly, but how they function to control brain waves. I _really_ didn’t hurt Shannon. I would _never_ hurt her.” 

“Yeah, I noticed you and the Smurf have been kinda tight lately.” 

“Smurf?” 

“S. Murphy. _Smurf_. Didn’t you ever watch cartoons, Daniel?” 

“No. My foster parents thought they were a waste of time.” 

Jack stopped walking and stared at him. “Really? Man, I gotta introduce you to Wile E. Coyote. You and he have a lot in common.” 

Daniel seemed to ignore him, and stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. He withdrew his left hand and showed the healing device he’d brought with him. “This is another piece of contraband. Just so you know I have it.” 

Jack took it, looked it over, handed it back.

They started walking again, and he glanced back over his shoulder. Carter and Romani were headed for the Stargate to place his order for gear through the MALP. “Maybe you could use that on Carter’s boyfriend.” 

“I thought about that,” Daniel returned solemnly. “But I didn’t know how to bring it up.” 

They slowed down as they hit the beach, stopping just a few feet from the lapping waves. “Yeah, it could be kinda embarrassing,” agreed the Colonel.

“This is a nice place. Real pretty.” 

“Wait till nightfall,” Daniel said flatly, still looking at the ground. 

“What happens at night?” 

Daniel’s head lifted, aimed at the sky, and his eyes closed.

Jack could see the pain in his face, see him struggling with his emotions, and put his arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“It’s okay, buddy,” he said softly. “I know being here’s hard for you. But your family’s here with you. I know we haven’t been that for a while, but we need to get back to it. Okay?” 

The other man reached around him and hugged him for a full minute. “Yeah. Thanks, Jack. I’m trying.” He was sniffling when he pulled away. 

“I know you are.” 

Jack patted his friend’s shoulder, rubbing a little as they strolled down the beach, away from camp.

A moment later, he saw that Daniel had the ribbon device on his right hand again.

“Whatcha doin’?” 

“What say we check this baby out, and see what she can do?” 

Jack’s first instinct was a quip, followed closely by suspicion and mistrust. Romani’s advice echoed, and he went for the funny. “Well, that depends. Who you gonna take aim at?” 

Facing the water, Daniel held up his hand, palm out. “Nobody. Maybe scare the shit out of a few fish.” 

“Daniel! Since when did you become a potty mouth?” 

Jackson grinned. The amber jewel in his palm began to glow, and then suddenly the water in front of him _exploded_. It was like someone had shot an invisible cannon ball at the horizon, throwing up two vertical walls of spray ten feet high on either side of the concussion path. 

“Sweet!” Jack cheered. “How the hell’d you do that, Daniel?”

He shook his head and flashed a wry grin.

“Never mind. You’ll explain it to me in great boring detail if you think I really want to know, and I couldn’t give a rat’s ass.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the camp and noticed soldiers grabbing weapons and running toward them. Jack waved them back, shouting, “Just testing, folks! Nothing to be upset about. Go on back to whatever you were doing. Show’s over.” 

The sun was just setting over the mountaintop, the sky beginning to glimmer with the first stars. 

“No, Jack,” Daniel corrected, looking upward. “It’s just starting.” He smiled again, only this time wonder was etched into his face. “You’re gonna love this.” 

The Colonel’s mouth dropped slowly open as he caught sight of the aurora display. “Holy shit, Daniel!  Why didn’t we see this when we were here before?” 

“Now, who’s the potty mouth?” Daniel slipped his hands into his pants pockets. “The display only lasts for a few hours.  Maybe you were here at the wrong time.  And what was that you said to me when I was helping Shannon? I seem to recall a whole stream of words I know your mom would’ve never let you say.” 

“Well, I am in the military, you know. _Everybody’s_ gotta learn the vocabulary…” 

“Pull up some beach and enjoy the show, Jack. I’m going back to keep Shannon company.” 

O’Neill didn’t look away from the brilliant, dancing sky. “See you in the morning, buddy. G’night.” 

“Night, Jack.”

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel ambled slowly back toward the hut, watching the camp come alive with artificial lights. He tried to keep his eyes on the ground, to _not_ see the familiar landscape dotted with tents, but the images came anyway, accompanied by the echo of screams and the percussive snarl of Jaffa weaponry.

His eyes filled with tears, and he started to shake. 

For a couple of minutes he stood still, head bowed, hardly able to breathe. 

“Doctor Jackson?” 

Daniel’s head came up at the sound of his name. “Here,” he answered automatically, blind to reality, able to see only the image burned into his mind. 

“Are you all right?” Doctor Romani asked quietly. “Having a flashback, maybe?” 

“Yes, I—“ He wheezed, grimacing against the pain in his heart. “I’ll be fine. Just fine.”

He started walking again, toward the general direction of the hut. He shook his head, wiping away the tears with his palms, and the vision began to fade.

He could hear Romani’s chair rolling over the uneven ground alongside him, keeping up with him as he headed for the hut. 

“Do you want to talk, Daniel?” Romani was always gentle with his offers. 

Daniel respected that.

Romani didn’t push, like MacKenzie had. He didn’t demand. He just made offers that couldn’t quite be refused.

“Yeah. I think I do.” He looked down at the man, struggling over the rough ground in his wheelchair. He glanced up the mountain at the black shadow on the ridge delineated clearly against the starry sky, reflecting a ghostly rainbow of the aurora.

He sighed. “You know, you shouldn’t be here. It’s a combat zone, more or less.” 

“I’m needed, or you wouldn’t have called me,” Romani reminded him. 

“Exactly.” Daniel nodded, his gaze shifting from the camp to the doctor to his wheels. “But you shouldn’t be _here_ , tied to that chair as you are. I’m sorry if I’m being blunt, because I _am_ being blunt, and I know it. You’re risking more than your own life with that handicap. Let me get you back on your feet again, for the sake of the other men and women here. And for Sam.” 

Romani’s mouth dropped open a little. “I’m not sure what you’re suggesting, Doctor Jackson. I promise you, if we should come under attack, I’m perfectly willing to sacrifice my own life rather than get in the way.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me, doctor, but that’s not how we do things at the SGC.” Daniel reached into his pocket and produced the healing device, holding it up for the other man to see. “Know what this is?” 

Romani’s face set. “I do, and it doesn’t work,” he shot back tensely. 

Daniel almost smiled. “Sam used hers on you. Didn’t she?” 

A muscle twitched in Romani’s jaw. That was his only answer. 

“Let me tell you something, Doctor. The symbiote that she hosted was vastly different than the one that took me. Mine was far older, and he had me for much longer than Jolinar had her. Sam didn’t really understand what was going on while she was a host, and couldn’t make use of the time she had with Jolinar. But I, on the other hand, spent a great deal of time learning everything I could about Anubis. I can make this thing work. I _can_ heal you… If you let me. I won’t force you.”

He gestured around the camp. “Just remember, this offer isn’t only for you. It’s for _them_ , because they’ll die trying to protect you. I’d rather they didn’t have to think about the guy in the wheelchair, and just concentrated on their jobs.” 

He opened the door and gestured Romani inside to emphasize his point. Shannon lay sleeping on the cot where he’d placed her. There were a handful of soldiers gathering their things, giving up the hut to Jackson and Murphy. They ducked out quietly, and closed the door behind them. 

“Well?” Daniel asked. “What’s it gonna be, doctor?” 

Romani’s eyes seemed angry as he lifted them to Daniel’s face. “What do you need me to do?” 

“Not a thing,” Daniel promised, and knelt before the chair as he slipped the device onto his hand.

It began to glow, and Daniel started over Romani’s heart, scanning for damage as he moved his hand slowly downward.

It was so simple. He could see inside the man’s body like looking at an MRI, and spotted the injury site instantly. The spinal cord, once completely severed, had been marginally re-attached, probably from the work Sam had done on him, but it wasn’t enough. In his mind, Daniel reconstructed the cord until it was pristine and new, fully functioning. Then he moved his hand lower, first down one leg and then the other, restoring the deteriorated muscle until Romani’s legs were perfectly healthy. 

He sat down, panting and weary, but innately pleased.

“Put off thy bed and walk,” he quoted from the Bible. “Give it a shot, Doctor Romani.”

The healing device was hot as he slipped it back into his trouser pocket, and then Daniel fell back on the floor to rest.

He rolled his head to the side to watch. 

The psychiatrist’s face was the picture of wonder as he pressed his right foot against the footrest of the chair.

He flexed his leg, and lifted it, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh, my God!” he whispered, tears welling up. “It worked! You did it, Daniel!”

He set his right foot on the ground, then his left, and then pushed against the chair arms to get to his feet. He swayed for a moment, trying to get his balance, but his strength held and he remained standing.

“Holy Hannah!” he crowed. “I’m standing up!” 

“Walk. Take a step. See how that feels.” Daniel was smiling, too, happy to be doing something good for a change. 

Romani obeyed. He was as shaky as a newborn colt, but after a few experimental strides, his movements became more fluid and natural. He started laughing. He stumbled toward the door, but the moment his hand touched the handle, he stopped.

He turned around, his face filled with gratitude and warmth. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I forgot for a moment. Please forgive me.” 

He walked over to where Daniel lay on the ground and took a seat beside him. “You wanted to talk.” 

Daniel nodded. “Yeah. But it can wait. You wanted to show Sam.” 

“You first, Doctor Jackson. My patients must always come first.” 

With a sigh, Daniel sat up, bowed his head, and let the images come as the words spilled out of his mouth, and went into Romani’s ears. Hours later, too exhausted to talk, Daniel scooted over beside the cot where Shannon lay sleeping, and folded his arms on the side of the bed. He put his head down on them and yawned. 

“I can give you something to help you sleep, Daniel,” Romani offered. “You need to get some rest.” 

“Later,” Daniel shot back. “I have to be lucid when Shannon wakes up. I can’t be in a drugged haze. And you need to come running when I call you. Or maybe you should bunk in here with us, so you’ll be handy.” 

“I’ll go talk to Samantha about that. My gear should be here by now. Once we’ve got Doctor Murphy coping, I’m going to insist that you get some sleep.” 

“You won’t have to talk me into it, I promise,” Daniel slurred. 

Romani took a backward glance at the empty chair that had been his prison for so many years, and walked out into the night to find Major Carter.

When he returned, he saw that Daniel was sleeping, sitting up beside Shannon’s cot, head on his arms.

He and Samantha moved into the hut quietly, and before long Teal’c and Colonel O’Neill had their stuff in place in the hut as well.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack set up a bunk beside Shannon’s for Daniel, and put his on the far side of that. He settled in and went to bed late, after draping a blanket around Daniel’s shoulders against the nighttime chill. He’d just closed his eyes when the scream awakened him.

He was on his feet instantly and reaching for his sidearm. 

It had been Daniel’s voice.

Everyone in the hut had awakened, and were now converging on Jackson as he thrashed on the ground.

Jack knelt over him, reaching for him. 

“No!” Daniel cried. “Oh, God, please, don’t kill them! Not the baby! Not the baby…”

He collapsed on the floor, sobbing with unbearable grief. 

Jack pulled him into his arms and held him, rocking him like a child and stroking his hair. “It’s okay, Daniel. I’m here. It’s over now. It was just a nightmare.” 

“No, it wasn’t,” Daniel growled against his shoulder, clutching him like a life preserver. “God, Jack! It was _me_! I killed them! I killed them all. Even the baby, oh, God—“

He sobbed as if his soul was being torn out. “I killed that newborn baby, stomped on it…” 

“Not _you,_ Daniel,” Jack assured him, his insides twisting up painfully, hugging him harder. “It was _Anubis_ , Daniel. Not _you_. You could _never_ do that. _Never_.” 

“I couldn’t stop him,” Daniel sobbed, clutching at Jack’s T-shirt. “I tried! I tried…” 

“I know you did. You would have stopped him if you could have. We _all_ know that.” 

Jack saw Romani squat down beside them, a capped syringe in his hand.

O’Neill shook his head and waved him away. 

Romani nodded and rose, standing by with Teal’c and Carter, waiting to help. 

Jack sat down on the ground and adjusted his position, holding Daniel closer as the young man sobbed until he ran out of tears.

Someone handed over a box of tissues, which were put onto the floor nearby.

When the storm was over, Daniel sat up on his own and gave a guilty glance to his audience. 

“Sorry about waking everyone up.”

Shannon was still sleeping in blissful ignorance.

“Nightmares,” he explained with a sad smile. Embarrassed and wracked with guilt and sorrow, Daniel eyed Jack and Romani in turn. “I expect I’ll be having more than the usual while I’m here. This place is full of… inspiration. Maybe you’ll get more sleep in another hut.” 

Romani nodded. “Probably. But I can help with that.” He held up the syringe. 

“Later. Once Shannon’s better.” 

“I know.  I may still have to overrule you at some point, Doctor Jackson. You know that.” 

He nodded. “If Jack gives the word, then okay. I trust him to let me make my own decisions until he thinks intervention is necessary.” 

“Yeah. And as tough as I know it is for you right now, I think you’re still doing okay on your own.” Jack paused. “Now if you’d just let the _rest_ of us get some sleep…” 

Daniel almost smiled. “Yeah. Maybe Romani could give the rest of you something to keep you from waking up every time I have a nightmare.” 

“Sorry. That’s not how it works, Daniel,” Romani said with a slight grin. “We’ll just have to deal with them, same as you do.” 

“Yeah. Thanks. Pleasant dreams to you all,” said Daniel sourly. He turned back to Shannon’s cot and put his head on his arms again. 

Jack tapped him on the shoulder. “I laid this cot out for you. Why’n’t you get on it? Maybe you’ll sleep better.” 

“I don’t _want_ to sleep, Jack,” Daniel admitted. “Not yet. Not till Shannon’s better. I’m trying to stay awake here.” 

“Want some company?” Jack nodded the other three back toward their cots. He put his back to the curved wall that arched over their heads and made himself comfortable. 

“No, Jack. Go back to sleep so you can be the competent guy in charge tomorrow, and not the half-asleep one.” 

“You don’t wanna talk? Maybe play poker or somethin’? I can be good company. Despite what others may say about me.” 

Daniel raised his head, nodded and made weary eye contact. “I know that, and I appreciate the offer. But I’ve got my own adjustments to make, being here again. I’ve got a lot of things to think about.” 

“Scary things,” Jack emphasized. “And I wanna help with that, Daniel. Share the load, y’know?” 

Sighing, Daniel turned around, put his back to the cot and hugged his knees. “Yeah, I know. And you’re gonna make me do this, whether I want to or not. Aren’t you?” 

Jack grinned. “ _Now_ you’re getting it! So what are we talkin’ about here?” 

“The evil that was Anubis.” 

“Oh, yeah. Him.” 

Daniel rubbed his face, exhausted beyond words. “Sam and I compared notes on possession a while back,” he began. “She didn’t have Jolinar for very long and was sort of confused about what was going on during most of it, so she wasn’t really prepared for getting the most out of the experience, if you know what I mean.” 

“I do, but the wording’s a little unfortunate. Don’t you think?” 

“I heard that,” Carter called from further back in the room. 

“Go to sleep, Major,” Jack called softly. “That’s an order. Private conversation going on here.” 

“Yes, sir.” She turned over, and silence fell. 

“Where were we?” Jack asked. 

“See, the thing is, the symbiotes sleep just like we do,” Daniel went on.

His mouth softened at the corners. “Reyenne taught me that.”

He spoke to his boots as he began to unlace them. “Anubis was very old – older than you can imagine – and very, _very_ strong.”

For a moment he fell silent as he removed his boots and socks and flexed his toes. “He was able to control my body even in his sleep, but I thought that, if I were ever going to be able to influence him, I had to know everything I could about him, about what he knew. So while he was sleeping, in his most vulnerable state, I explored his mind. That’s where I learned how to use the ribbon device and the healing device.” 

“And lots of other goodies, too, I’ll bet.” 

Daniel rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah. You’ll never guess how he planned to take control of the other System Lords.” 

“Surprise me.” 

“He had his Shoshani scientists miniaturize the Thor’s Hammer device, which you used to free me – and thank you for that, Jack.” 

“Think nothing of it. I’d do it for anybody I care about.” 

Daniel’s eyes glowed with warmth. “Yeah. Anyway, he was going to get Osiris to meet with them, one at a time, in private, where even their _lotaurs_ wouldn’t see. He’d use the Hammer on them and disintegrate their symbiotes, then re-implant them with one of his own children. Anubis would have their allegiance, and those who served them wouldn’t notice the difference because the host bodies would be the same and the new symbiotes would have access to all the host’s memories, so the takeover was seamless. It was really a brilliant plan, when you look at it for sheer strategic value. He’d replaced Kali already.” 

“Gives me the creeps,” Jack observed honestly. “But yeah, I can see how that could work.”

Jack put his hand on the other man’s shoulder and rubbed it gently. “Daniel, I can’t possibly know what you’ve been through, because I’ve never had one of those things in me for long enough to count. But I do know a little something about the Goold from the _outside_ , and I’m sure this guy’s background is pretty sickening.” 

For a moment, Daniel looked like he was going to vomit. “Yeah. Yeah. Good word choice.” 

“Just remember, it’s _him_ , and not you. Those are _his_ memories, things _he_ did. You’re not responsible for any of it.” 

“I have to be responsible for what he did _with my body_ , Jack.” 

“No, you _don’t_ , Daniel. If you could have stopped him, you would have. Everybody knows that! I believe he was as strong as you say, so there was nothing you could have done… except suffer. And you’re still doing that. I can see it in your face, in your posture, how you move. He’s _killing_ you, Danny. That scares me, because… I can’t fight him when he’s already dead. They’re just memories. Put ‘em behind you. Let him _go_. We need you, here, now, with us, and Anubis is in the way, cutting you off from us. From _me_.” 

Daniel studied him in the semidarkness. 

“I screwed up our friendship, Daniel,” Jack admitted, patting his chest. “I want it _back_. You’re like—“ 

An image of Charlie’s face smiling up at him lit up his mind. 

“There’s something vulnerable about you, like a little kid... Like my son. It took me a little while to warm up to you, but you’re so like Charlie in a lot of ways, Daniel.”

Jack’s eyes filled with tears, but he blinked them away. That was something he’d never really thought about, but the words rang true. His heart hurt.

“You’re kind of like my second chance, y’know? I mean, I know I’m not that much older than you, but that’s kinda how I feel about you. Fatherly, sort of.” He toyed with his hands in his lap. “If you can understand that.” 

“You remind me of my Dad, in a lot of ways, Jack.” Daniel pictured his father, and found the memory misty and indistinct. “Not so much in the way you look, as how you treat me. Like you always know what’s best for me.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Jack felt cross with himself about that. “I’ve gotta work on that.” 

 “It’s part of your charm.” 

Daniel’s crooked, forgiving smile warmed Jack to the core. The guy was in so much anguish, but was still making a joke, and Jack had to chuckle. 

“I never had a brother, Jack, but I’ve studied family dynamics, and there are a lot of sibling traits we share: you as the older brother, and me as the younger. Sam’s kind of sisterly, and Teal’c…”

He craned his neck and gazed down the row of cots to those broad shoulders, last in line, nearest the door to protect them all. “We’ve never really made him part of the family. He’s just been kind of tacked on. Gotta fix that.” 

“Yep. Way ahead of you there.” 

Silence fell for a moment, as each was lost in his own thoughts. 

“Are we gonna be all right, Jack?” 

O’Neill shrugged. “I never claimed to be clairvoyant, Daniel, but my guess is, if we survive this mission, and the one after that, and the ones after that, given enough time… yeah. We’ll be cool. As long as we have each other, we’ll be just okay.” 

Daniel nodded. He leaned over, resting his head on Jack’s shoulder. “That’s good to hear. I’m tired, big brother. Can we stop talking now?” 

Jack put his arm around Daniel’s shoulders. “Sure. You wanna close your eyes for a minute? I’ll watch for Shannon to wake up.” 

“Okay.” An instant later, Daniel’s breathing had slowed to the rhythm of exhausted sleep. 

Jack sat still, eyes open, thinking about his family and the man in his arms. It _was_ a little like having Charlie back. The emotion was _that_ strong. As he pictured Charlie grown up, living through the experiences Daniel had endured, he held on a little tighter.

He would _never_ have treated Charlie as he had done Daniel, and vowed in the silence of the night on that alien world that he would honor Charlie’s memory by giving to Daniel the love and compassion meant for his own son. 

And in the near darkness, he let slip the tears he would never let anyone see, and told the sleeping man that he loved him.

 

* * *

 

 **June 1**

Daniel roused to the sensation of someone patting him on the shoulder, and sat up slowly. His back hurt from the position he’d been sitting in for too long, and his right hip was numb. Disoriented for a moment, he saw Jack nodding and followed the movement to Shannon’s cot. 

She was restless, moving beneath the covers he’d placed over her the previous night. He got stiffly to his knees and grunted as his body protested the movement.

“I’m here, Shannon,” he called softly, stroking her hair and putting his face into her line of sight. “It’s okay. Time to wake up.” 

Her eyes opened groggily, and she smiled at him. “Hey, there, sexy,” she murmured, reaching out to him. She pulled him down into a kiss, and let him go. “Want a quickie before we have to go to work?” 

“Um… we’re already _at_ work, Shannon,” he returned, feeling slightly awkward that the others might have overheard her invitation. He was certain Jack had. 

She sat bolt upright then, her good humor instantly gone. She started to tremble, eyes wide as she scanned the interior of the hut and realized where she was. Her breathing became rapid and shallow, and she looked like she were going to scream. 

“Doctor Romani, a little help here,” Daniel called over his shoulder.

He moved up to sit beside her on the cot, and put his arms around her. “It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re fine. I’m right here with you, Shannon, just like I promised.” 

Romani came up quickly on her other side, syringe in hand. “This is an anti-anxiety medication, Shannon. It’ll calm you down, just take the edge off, till you can handle being here.” He injected the medication into her arm, and dropped the unit into the portable sharps disposal that Sam handed to him. “Let’s just give it a minute to work, and see how you feel. Okay?” 

“I’m scared,” she whimpered, clutching at her boyfriend. “I wanna go home. Please, let me go home!” 

Daniel grasped her chin and turned her to face him. “Remember what you told me, Shannon?” 

Her eyes were black with fear. She felt like she was about to explode in his arms. He was losing her, and knew it. He had to bring her back, keep her lucid until the medication took effect. 

“ _Remember_ , honey. Try. Come on.” He kissed her tenderly, trying to get her to focus on him, rather than where she was. “You told me you didn’t worry about the missing time, because you knew that, whatever happened to you during those years, it was _good_. Remember the feeling you described? You said it was warm and happy. _Remember_ , Shannon. Feel the warmth around those missing memories. You were here. You were happy.” 

She nodded, still trembling, seeing nothing but his eyes. “Yes, Danny love. I remember.” 

He stroked her cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid. What happened to you before is over. We’re all here with you now. There are a lot of us here on Siraket, lots of SG units, and we’ll protect you. We won’t let _anyone_ take you away again. Okay?” 

“Okay.” She leaned in close, snuggling up under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her, and looked to Romani for guidance. 

“You’re doing it just right. Keep her focus on you for a little while longer, till you feel her relax. Then we’ll see about…” He pointed toward the door with his thumb. 

Daniel nodded. “It’s okay, Shannon. I’m here with you, and we’re okay.”

Minutes passed, and gradually the trembling stopped.

She lay limply in his arms, but when Romani gave the signal, Daniel helped her sit up. It hurt him to see how dazed she looked. The bright gleam of intelligence in her eyes was dulled, but the drugs were necessary for the moment.

He forced a smile, and made her look at him. “How do you feel?” 

She smiled back, possibly out of reflex. “Fine. Spacey. I think I’m high.” 

“You probably are, but right now, that’s a good thing. Do you think you can walk?” 

“Yeah,” she drawled. “I’d like a long, hot shower, Danny. Wanna join me?” She laughed. “Remember the first time we took a shower together? We hadn’t even had sex yet!” She giggled for a minute, bemused with the memory. 

Daniel tried not to blush. “Yes, I remember, but you don’t have to _tell_ everybody. Let’s just get up now, and we’ll see what we can do about that bath.” He eyed Sam. “ _You_ get to help her with that here, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sam agreed uncertainly. “I didn’t see any shower facilities set up when I was exploring last night.” 

“We bathed in the ocean, when I was here before,” Daniel recalled as he helped Shannon stand beside the cot. “I’d imagine that’s what everybody else has been doing. It’s fresh water.” 

“And there are a grand total of, like, _three_ women here now, Daniel,” Sam shot back acidly. “I think some arrangements need to be made. Don’t you? I mean, it’s broad daylight out there now.” 

Daniel checked his watch. “Um, it’s probably just breaking dawn. If you hurry, you could—“ 

“Let me put it to you this way. _You’ve_ seen your girlfriend, here, naked. Do you want _every_ soldier here taking a look?” 

“Um, well… no.” He frowned at Shannon. “Even though she probably wouldn’t care very much right now.” Sam’s slightly ticked off expression indicated that idea was a no-go. “And she’s not my girlfriend. We’re just… good… _friends_. Okay?” 

Sam’s patience faded, and she threw up her hands and stomped away to her cot. She pulled her backpack out from beneath it and strapped it on. With a glare that spoke volumes, she headed for the door. 

Daniel grabbed Shannon’s backpack and guided her gently outside.

It was still dark, though the sky was graying with the coming dawn. He trudged down to the water behind Sam, blocking Shannon’s view of the Stargate with his body until they were well past it. As they neared the bathing spot, he motioned Carter to the south, farther down the beach to an isolated spot where he and Reyenne had been together on several occasions.

The memories pulled at him, tore at his heart, but he pushed them away and turned his back as the women headed for the water.

He stood guard over them, watching the trees and the beach back the way they had come for any peeping toms who might want a look at the ladies. 

When they had finished and dressed, he fell into step beside Shannon, one hand settling into the small of her back as they walked.

Sam turned to look behind her at them, smiled and shook her head. 

“What?” he demanded, knowing that look meant something. 

“It’s plain as the nose on your face, Daniel, but you can’t see it.” 

“What is?” he demanded, not understanding. 

“Never mind. We’ve got work to do. You gonna go up to the temple?” 

“Not yet. I want to walk her around, see if she recognizes anything.” 

Sam dropped back to walk beside him. “I’ll tell Ro. We’ll keep an eye on you from a distance. Or on her, rather.” 

Daniel swallowed hard, memories drifting through his mind as he turned the corner and headed into the camp again. “Tell him to keep an eye on _both_ of us. Might be a rough day.” 

Sam rubbed his shoulder fondly. “I will, Daniel.” She started off away from them, her eyes searching for Doctor Romani and making a beeline toward him with a bright smile and joy in her eyes. 

Romani waved to her and jogged toward her, catching her hand as she stopped. 

The sight warmed Daniel’s heart. He was happy for Samantha, and had hopes for Jack and Logan as well. They deserved happiness. 

_But not for you,_ said a small voice in the back of his mind. _You will never have that again, because all those who love you die horribly._

“Yeah. I know,” he said aloud. 

The brutal laughter echoing in his mind made him reach for his ears, as if to shut it out. 

“You know _what,_ Daniel?” 

“Huh?” he turned toward Shannon. He’d forgotten about her for a moment.

Her eyes looked a little clearer, but still half awake.

“Oh, nothing. Let’s take a walk, okay?”

He turned her attention toward the forested hills stretching away to the south and west, then to the mountain to the north. “Any of this look familiar?” 

“Have I been here before?” 

“You must have been. You know the dances. You had to’ve learned them here.” 

She stared vacantly at the mountain for a long time. The wind picked up a little, bringing the scent of coming rain. He watched her face, wondering what memories were playing through her mind. There had to be some sense of recognition, because she looked sad. 

“It was beautiful once,” she murmured. “I saw it when it was new.” 

He followed her gaze to the reclining statue. “Yes, I guess it was. But the one you saw was on another planet, before you came here. Don’t you remember? Somebody brought you here.” 

The look faded and she stumbled a little. “I’m tired, Danny. I wanna go home.” 

“We will, Shannon, but there’s something we have to do first. Do you wanna go up to the temple?” 

She shook her head, wobbling a little. “No. No, not yet.” 

“Okay, then we’ll walk some more. Let’s go down to the beach. Maybe that’ll jog your memory.”

He took her hand and led her back through the camp, remembering the location of every Siraketan tent that he had burned. He could still see the bodies lying where they had fallen, mutilated and burned by the staff weapons.

He was shaking by the time he made it to the other side of the camp, his stomach threatening to spill over. His free hand went automatically to his mouth as he tried desperately to keep it down. 

He was tired, so tired. His body ached, and his heart hurt almost beyond what he could bear. There was so much pain, so much anguish inside him. Memories assaulted him from every angle. He was crying by the time he reached the beach. 

“Danny,” Shannon called, moving into his arms. “It’s okay. I’m here for you.” 

He pushed her violently away and staggered forward in the sand, falling to his knees. 

Jack was there beside him instantly. “Hey,” he called softly. “Need some space, or a shoulder?” 

Daniel searched for a way to hold onto his sanity in his old friend’s face. “I don’t know,” he whimpered softly.

The sound of crying made him turn and look behind him. 

The hurt in Shannon’s eyes was profound. Daniel got to his feet and went to her, but she turned her back to him. He caught her upper arms and turned her around to face him. “I’m sorry, Shannon. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

She wouldn’t look at him, keeping her eyes aimed at the ground instead. “I know, Danny love. It’s okay.” She eased out of his grasp and tottered unsteadily toward the temple. 

Daniel followed, keeping a few yards back. Jack kept pace beside him. “I’m not doing so good at this,” the younger man confessed, wiping the tears off his face. He couldn’t seem to find his emotional balance in that place. 

“You’re exhausted, for one thing,” Jack reminded him. “Why’n’t you go catch some Z’s and I’ll keep the Smurf company, okay?” 

“That’s not the _point_ , Jack,” Daniel growled. “I _promised_ to get her through this. She needs me.” 

“Yeah, well, we all do, but you’re not gonna do anybody any good if you go psychotic from sleep deprivation.” 

“I had a little this morning. Hell, I was sleeping on _you_ , for Pete’s sake. You ought to remember that.” 

O’Neill chuckled. “Yeah. I do. I’m pretty tired myself, but I haven’t been pulling the load you have, either. Just… _nobody_ hears I was your pillow. Got that?” 

“Kinda goes without saying,” Daniel shot back. “I mean, I wouldn’t want anybody to know I was… um… sleeping with my CO, if you know what I mean.” He cleared his throat. “And please, Jack, no matter how wiped out I get, don’t let that happen, _ever_ again. Okay?” 

“You got it, little bro.” 

The first cold drops of rain began to pelt them from the gray sky, and by the time they reached the temple, they were running to get out of the shower. Lights had been installed in the interior, powered by electric generators here and there. The trio stopped just inside the tunnel entrance, and turned to look out at the storm. 

“I heard these storms can get pretty violent,” Daniel said above the noise. “I left before the rainy season started. I’m guessing we’re catching the tail end of it now.” 

Jack studied the camp and the soldiers ducking for cover, except those few on sentry duty, who stood staunchly in the downpour, watching the ‘gate, the landscape and the sky for signs of danger.

“They make me proud,” he said softly, and gave them a little salute they couldn’t see. 

Daniel glanced out at the sentries. One of them, he noted, was Carter, and Teal’c was another. “Yeah. Hope they don’t get sick.” 

“They’ll be fine. They’re tough.” 

Daniel turned around, hoping to talk with Shannon, but she was nowhere to be seen. He followed the trail of wet footprints and drips into the depths of the temple proper, until the tracks disappeared onto the smooth stone floor.

She could have gone anywhere in the maze. She could be lost.

He called her again, jogging down different tunnels, his anxiety rising as he pictured her falling apart inside that place. 

Then he remembered that she knew her way in there as well as he did, having spent weeks in the multi-purpose room that had been set up to simulate the labyrinthine temple. He stopped running and heard footsteps behind him.

Jack was jogging up the passageway. 

“Find her?” 

Daniel was winded, and shook his head in answer. 

“Where would she go?” 

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t… Wait… Yes, I do! Come on.”

He loped down the tunnel, wending his way through the maze until he stood in the nearest of the empty rooms, where they had broken through to the Storehouse. 

Shannon stood just inside the hole in the wall, her eyes wandering over the walls decorated with the dance script. 

Daniel halted, bringing Jack to a stop with him. He held his finger to his lips, asking for silence, and got it, save for the harsh rasping of their breath as they panted from the run. 

“Love,” she said softly, and raised her hand in greeting. 

Daniel moved up behind her, looking where he thought her gaze might be aimed. There was a symbol in the columns of script, larger than the others, and with faded traces of paint in the incised edges of the word.

That had been one of the hard ones, that didn’t seem to have a readily understandable motion he could figure out. There were five of those symbols, extra large ones that had once been painted bright colors. One was on each of the four walls of the Storehouse, with the fifth in the center of the design on the floor. 

“Is that what it says, Shannon? Love?” 

She turned to look at him, tears spilling over her cheeks without a sound. And then her eyes closed, and she wilted like someone had just shut her off.

He caught her before she hit the floor, and laid her out carefully on the smooth stone surface.

“Go get Doctor Romani,” Daniel ordered, and the Colonel was off like a shot. 

While he waited, Daniel stood up and examined the symbol, touching it with his hand, running his fingers around the inside of the carving.

“How could you get ‘love’ out of that?” He stared at the lines, and then felt his cheeks heating up.

“Oh.”

The lines were simple, but once he applied his imagination to it, he realized that the suggestion related to union, enhanced with radiating lines that indicated something more, a brightness that could only mean _one_ thing: coitus and conception.

He stepped inside the Storehouse, staring at the design on the floor. It felt familiar somehow; important… The most important symbol of all, if its placement were any indicator.

This was the doorway to where the Ancients had gone. He hadn’t told anyone yet, wanting to wait until he knew he could open it before making that announcement.

He knelt down and put his hand to it, tracing it with his fingertips. 

Anubis had known what it was. But he also knew he couldn’t open it in his old body. That had changed when he invaded Daniel, only he couldn’t get to that secret before Anubis had been killed. 

“I have the key,” he said aloud as he recalled the dragon’s hint. “All I have to do is recognize it when I see it.” 

He sighed and walked back to Shannon’s side, taking a seat beside her. She didn’t look comfortable, so he moved until he could pull her head and shoulders up into his lap. He wondered what was taking Jack and Romani so long. 

Her eyes opened slowly. Then she sat up, her shoulders hunched and head down. She didn’t say a word. 

“You scared me there for a minute,” he said quietly. After a moment, he added, “Aren’t you going to talk to me?” 

Shannon didn’t make a sound or motion. 

He got up and pointed to the symbol on the wall. “You told me it says ‘love,’ Shannon. It took me a minute to figure out, but you’re right. How did you know that? Can you remember when you were here before?” 

“I’ve never been here before,” she said hollowly, looking at her hands in her lap. 

“Then how do you know the dances?” he demanded hotly, frustration rising inside him. 

“I don’t know!” she screamed, curling her hands into fists clenched in frustration.

She got quickly to her feet, anger gleaming in her emerald eyes. “I want to go _home_ , Daniel.” 

“You can’t! Not until you help me solve this riddle. You’re the key! You have the answers, Shannon. Somewhere in those missing years, someone brought you here to give you the answers, and then sent you back to us so we could find the way to the Ancients. Don’t you see?” 

He advanced on her, but she backed away, her eyes wounded and misty with unshed tears. 

“I don’t care, Daniel! I want to go home. I just…” She looked around, eyes widening as terror seeped in and took hold. “I want to go home!” She bolted and ran straight for a wall, stopping inches away.

He grabbed her, turned her around and pinned her against it. 

“Calm down, Shannon. I’m here.” 

“No, you’re _not!_ And you can’t go through the door like this.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know the answers, Daniel. Open it by yourself, if you can.” 

“I can’t, Shannon. You know that. They sent you to us as the key. You have to help me do this.” 

She shook her head. “No. I have to go home. Please, Danny. _Please._ I know you don’t care about me, but please, have mercy! I’m so scared…” 

Her knees gave, and she slid down the wall with her head in her hands, curling up on herself. 

He knelt slowly, ashamed that she would think he didn’t care about her. He wasn’t in love with her, but he did care. “Shannon, don’t…” 

Jack and Romani darted inside the room, and the doctor knelt beside the fallen woman, medical bag in hand. 

“Hey, Shannon. How’re you doing? Colonel O’Neill said you passed out.” He pulled a pen light from the bag and aimed it at her face. “Let me just check you out, okay?” 

Jack took Daniel by the shoulder and steered him out of the room, back down the corridors to the entrance. “Didn’t you say something about a rainy season?” He pointed down at the camp. 

The stream that flowed down the middle of the site had become a river, and the water was still rising. 

“Uh, yeah. The natives said that, when the rains come, they move to higher ground and can’t hunt for months. I’m not sure how long it lasts, but they stocked up on supplies for what looked like a good half year or so.” 

“Bummer. Looks like we gotta move the camp.” 

“To where?” 

“Here is probably good enough.” 

“Just as long as people don’t touch anything,” Daniel advised. “This is all very important, you know.” 

“Yeah. Right.” Jack sighed. “Well, I better get started. Why don’t you come with me, and give Smurf and the doc some private time? Doctor-patient privilege, and all that.” 

Daniel frowned. “I wasn’t going to listen in, Jack.” 

“Sure you weren’t. C’mon. Let’s get wet.” 

The two men trudged down the mountain to the camp, started the troops in motion to move everything portable into the temple. Daniel saw to driving the MALP up slope as a precaution, and when he had the vehicle parked in one of the interior rooms nearest the entrance, he went back to check on Shannon.

He could hear voices before he approached the room, but they were low and muted and he couldn’t understand what they were saying. 

He stepped inside and saw her cuddled up against Romani’s chest, his arms around her as she sniffed.

Anger boiled up inside him, but he said nothing, just stood and watched.

She pulled away and smiled sadly at the shrink, who stroked her hair and said something quietly to her. He patted her shoulder and started to get up, catching sight of Daniel standing in the doorway, watching them. 

“Doctor Jackson,” Romani announced with a smile. “She’s feeling a little better now. Still shaky, but I think she’s going to be okay.” 

Shannon stood slowly, dusting off her backside and heading for the Storehouse without looking at Daniel. 

He started to go after her, but Romani came toward him and stepped in the way. “I think she needs a little space, Doctor,” the psychiatrist advised. “You’re putting a lot of pressure on her to perform, and she can’t handle that just yet. Give her some time to adjust. Okay?” 

Daniel said nothing, but eased past the doctor and followed Shannon anyway. He kept his distance, watching her as she scanned the text on the walls, lost in her own thoughts. He wanted to go to her and hold her, tell her everything would be all right if she would just trust him, but he couldn’t.

His heart ached, but his feet wouldn’t move him any closer. 

She turned the corner, out of sight now behind the next open section of wall. 

He rubbed his face. “What the hell am I doing?” he whispered aloud. He was so tired. All he wanted was to rest, but he couldn’t, not in that place. Reminders were everywhere in the temple, the images of Anubis looking down on him from almost every wall. He hunted up Romani to ask for some of those drugs the doc had promised, whenever Daniel was ready to sleep. 

Daniel commandeered the first cot brought up from camp, laid it out in one of the blank rooms, and rolled up his sleeve for the injection just as Jack came in to check on him. He saw where O’Neill’s eyes went, but offered no explanation. Instead, he took off his long sleeved BDU jacket and reclined in his short-sleeved T-shirt, waiting for the medication to take effect. 

“Nice tattoos,” Jack observed. “When’d you get those?” 

“Months ago,” Daniel answered brusquely. 

“I didn’t know you were into body art.” 

Daniel closed his eyes. “My life has been irrevocably marked by Ra, Apophis and Anubis, Jack. I figured I might as well wear their symbols.” 

“As a reminder to yourself, or a warning to others?” 

“Both. Night, Jack.” 

“We’ll be here, Daniel.” 

“That’s good to know.” 

Romani rose from the bedside and strode toward the Colonel, eyes speaking volumes about his concern for the other man. He shook his head, unwilling to talk, and went out to help with the move.

Jack came in and poked around the room for a minute, waiting for Daniel to notice he was back. 

“What is it, Jack?” 

“I worry about you, Daniel.” 

“You have reason to. I thought that was apparent.” Daniel rolled onto his side and propped up on one arm to watch him. “Something on your mind?” 

“Why’d you bring Smurf here, anyway? I know you said she knew the dances, so she had to’ve been here. I got that. But she could’ve stayed at the base and given you updates on the translations. You didn’t really _have_ to bring her here, did you?” 

Daniel lay back and closed his eyes again, starting to feel the medication taking effect. “Yes, I did. I can’t explain it, but I just know she has to be here.” He smiled a little. “D’you know what she told me? She said she remembered the statue outside when it was new. Hell, that had to be thousands of years ago! Does she think the Stargate’s a time machine or something?” He chuckled softly to himself. 

Jack kicked a pebble on the floor. “That’s because it is, Daniel.” 

Jackson’s eyes opened. He sat up and stared at his CO. “No, it’s not. Though we’ve kind of made that happen a couple of times, that’s purely a coincidental effect... Isn’t it?” 

O’Neill’s eyes were dark and intent as he stared back. “What do you think the ninth chevron is for?” He looked a little embarrassed and proceeded to nudge the pebble again with his toe. 

Daniel could feel his mouth falling silently open. His eyes went wide. “Seven chevrons for placement, the eighth to factor in distance, and the ninth to calculate _time?_ And just when were you planning on sharing that, Jack? Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

He got up from the cot and started pacing the floor beside it, head down as idea after idea poured into his mind. “So the Ancients built the _chappa’ai_ to take the traveler not only anywhere, but any _when_!” 

“Daniel, sit down,” Jack ordered. “You’re getting agitated. I don’t want you popping an aneurism or somethin’.” 

“This is fantastic!” Daniel sat down on the cot without thinking about it. “Have you told Sam? How did you know? When did you figure it out?” 

Jack didn’t answer, but concentrated on that pebble with full focus. 

Suddenly, Daniel understood. He got up and caught Jack by the arm, towing him into the next room. Spaced between the dance script was writing that he knew was from the Ancients, carved in long columns from floor to ceiling. He pointed at one of the sets. “Can you read that?” 

Jack didn’t look at the script. He seemed to be holding his breath. His eyes were locked with Daniel’s, as if waging a war within himself. “Yes,” he answered quietly. “That’s how I knew how to open the walls into the Storehouse.” 

Daniel straightened. “You _didn’t_ forget everything pumped into your brain at the Place of Our Legacy, did you, Jack?” 

“No.” 

“But you didn’t want anyone to know. Why?” 

“Because I didn’t want anyone to know how much it changed… how I think. Who I am. I didn’t want to become something to be studied.” 

“Jesus, Jack.” Daniel felt the medication fighting with the adrenaline pumping through his system. He was getting dizzy, and knew he needed to lie down before he passed out. “We’ve all been through so many things… It’s a wonder _any_ of us can think straight. We live shell-shocked, running from one trauma to the next. You could have told the rest of your team.” He put a hand to his head and felt himself swaying. “We’re family, Jack.” 

He went down on his knees, too weak to stand. Strong arms hauled him upright and walked him over to the bed. Jack helped him to lie down. “Tell Sam. She needs to know. Please.” 

“She can’t calculate it, Daniel, and neither can I. Most of what the Ancients gave me is gone, but they really did kind of rewire my brain. I can understand the basics of the concept, just not how to go about programming the information in. _That’s_ why I didn’t tell anybody. I don’t know enough to make a difference. We still can’t get there from here.” 

“But _they_ can,” Daniel murmured as his eyes slid closed. “The Ancients can show us, as soon as we open the door.” 

“What door?” asked Jack. 

But it was too late.

The archaeologist was sound asleep.

Jack rose and wandered over to the Storehouse entrance, scanning the script. It was as plain to him as if it had been written in English. He strolled inside the room and eyed the design on the floor. There was only one word he recognized there in the beautiful pattern carved and painted into the stone floor, but it didn’t make any sense at all. 

He shook his head, glanced at the cot on his way out, and went to help with the move away from the flooding camp.

 

**_On to Chapter 5: The Mandanu_ **


	5. The Mandanu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack discovers the secrets of Logan's mysterious past. Teal'c searches for a new profession. Sam's relationship with Romani takes an unexpected turn. Daniel tries another way to propose to Shannon, and ties the knot. Osiris meets with the goddess of assassins and sends them to find and destroy the Mandanu. Daniel continues to struggle against the voice of Anubis, unable to prevent the terrible memories that continue to plague him.

**June 1**

Daniel held photos of the five symbols in his hands, studying and thinking out loud. He paced around the corridor, looking at each symbol in turn, before returning to the one known quantity.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “Love. And then…” he studied the photo of the next one in line as he walked toward it. “Crescent moon, lying on its side, radiant lines extended… Phases of the moon, moon shine, moon light… change, maybe?” He stared at it, waiting for something to click. 

Jack stood at his elbow, staring down at it. “Or laughter.” He pointed at the design. “See how that kinda looks like a smile? And those lines look like what they use in comics to show somebody laughing or shouting.” 

“The Goa’uld are not known for mirth,” Teal’c provided from the next station. “Laughter would be a key they would find difficult to use, as is love.” 

Daniel nodded. “That’s good. We’ll add it to the list and see how it shakes out as we go.” He noted Jack’s suggestion on the photo along with his own impressions, and moved on to the next symbol. 

Teal’c stood with his head cocked, studying it. “If ColonelO’Neill is correct, then perhaps this is also a mouth.” He pointed at the circle embraced by radiant lines. “But what is it doing?” 

“Singing,” Jack suggested as he took a look at it. He shrugged. “That’s what I get from the visual, anyway. Referring once again my large history with comics.” 

Daniel made note of that one and headed for the next. This one was the most complicated, with a pattern of oval shaped dots, some connected with dashed lines, all inside a halo of wavy radiant lines. Sam was looking at that one, and shook her head with an embarrassed half smile. 

“Kinda reminds me of the step pattern my dad used when he tried to teach me to waltz for my high school prom.” She shrugged helplessly and grinned. “I’ve got a whole set of left feet. Never could learn to dance. Not a rhythmic bone in my body, I guess.” 

Daniel scribbled on the photo and wandered to the middle of the room where Shannon sat on the floor beside the final design, arms embracing her knees, eyes leveled on the central marker. This one was a series of random swirls surrounded by the radiant lines that were completely indecipherable, as far as he was concerned. He hadn’t even been able to tell from which direction the image was intended to be seen, but Shannon seemed calm and patient, waiting for him to get to her. 

“What do you think?” he asked, squatting down beside her. 

“I think Teal’c is right.” She sighed and met his curious gaze. “Look at this from the viewpoint of the Ancients. If you were building a road to someplace where you didn’t want evil to enter, how would you screen those who came after you?” 

“I’d want to devise a way to measure their character—“ 

“Love,” she said firmly. “You’d want to make sure they were capable of that. You’d want to know they had joy in their hearts…” 

“That they could laugh.” Daniel smiled, nodding, understanding. “But singing? Dancing? What does that have to do with qualities of character?” 

“The Goa’uld have no songs in their hearts,” Teal’c volunteered, “because they cannot raise their voices in the spirit of joy. Nor do they dance, for the same reason.” 

“Okay. But then, what’s this one about?” He pointed at the design on the floor, and the entire group came to study it. Heads shook all around. All but one. 

A steady pair of brown eyes looked at it, head cocked to one side. Dimples appeared as Jack smiled and said with a note of certainty, “It means ‘play.’ Don’t ask me how I know; I just do.” He eyed Daniel, squatting on the floor beside the symbol. “That’s something you have a hard time with, buddy. I keep tryin’ to teach you sports, but you’re just not wired for competition.” 

“That’s true, but I play a decent game of chess. Maybe it could include that kind of game.” 

“Chess is _work_ ,” Jack corrected with a knowing shake of his gray head. “Too much strain on the brain.” He tapped one finger against his temple, then pointed at the floor. “This is all about motion, exuberance… and joy. Happy play. And I _know_ the Gould can’t do that. Not to mention the fact that they don’t have pretty voices, so singing is a definite screener.” 

Daniel stared down at the floor, his own intuition agreeing with the team’s contributions. He knew what all the symbols meant now, but still had no clue how to open the doorway to the place where the Ancients had gone. He could feel how close he was; close enough to touch the solution, but just out of his grasp. 

“ _Love_ ,” he said aloud, and stood, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket. “ _Laugh. Sing. Dance. Play_. Good advice, on the face of it.” 

He sighed.  “Okay, so we think we know what the keys are.  But how do we _apply_ them?”  Daniel cocked his head, thinking about each of his teammates in reference to the keys.  “Do you sing, Teal’c?” 

“Do _you_ , DanielJackson?” 

With a shrug, he replied, “I’ve never tried.  I don’t know.” 

Jack looked appalled.  “You’ve never sung in your _life?”  
_

“Well, aside from that unfortunate Urgo incident when we were all apparently singing ‘ _Row, Row, Row Your Boat,_ ’ but thankfully I didn’t realize I was doing it.” 

“Jeez, Daniel, we have _got_ to work on your recreational skills!  I’ll be right back.”  Jack ducked out of the Storehouse, obviously on a mission. 

“Okay.  So we sing, we laugh, we dance and play.  What about the other symbol?”  Sam asked pointedly. 

Shannon stood up and wandered away, taking sudden interest in the dance glyph. 

Daniel scratched his head, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.  “Uh, well, there seems to be a distinctly sexual element to the glyph, which could indicate—“ 

“Whoa!” Sam held up her hands and took a step back.  “Don’t _even_ go there, Daniel!  We’re on duty here.  No hanky panky, and even if it is vital to the mission, it’s not allowed.  Regulations, you know.  Thank God. There are a lot of things I’ll do for my country – for my world – but that’s not one of ‘em.” 

“You didn’t think I meant one of us—“  He was a little horrified at that idea.  His tongue darted out between his lips as he considered it in a different light.  “Never mind.  But yes, I do think it’s necessary that somebody… um…” 

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before,” Shannon reminded him casually.  “And _we’re_ not covered by military regs, Daniel.  I’m game if you are.” 

He turned around and looked at her, embarrassed that she’d even suggest it.  Then again, he was actually the one to detail the necessary component described by the design.  “Uh, well, yes, I guess that would make Shannon and me the… um, most viable option… for this…um, key.” 

He cleared his throat, still staring at the floor, aware how hot his face was, knowing it must be glowing bright red.  “And I cannot tell you how absolutely mortified I am right now, knowing what has to be done and that you’ll all know about it.” 

“You’ll have privacy, Daniel,” Sam assured him with a wicked grin.  “We probably don’t have to all be here, turning the keys at the same time.  Engage one chevron at a time.  Y’know?” 

His mouth pulled back into a flat, humorless grin.  “Yeah.  Right.  But how do we know which order to do the sequence in?” 

Sam shrugged and looked down at the floor.  “I’d say they thought ‘play’ was the most important, which is why it’s located here.  The rest?  I’d put ‘love’ first, anytime.  The others are negotiable.” 

“Okay, then.” 

Jack stepped back inside with a borrowed boom box, set it on one of the shelves and opened the CD player. 

Understanding what he was about to do, Daniel shouted, “Wait!  Not in here.  Not yet.  Let’s move farther back toward the entrance.  I don’t want to start the sequence yet.” 

“Huh?” Jack’s finger halted above the ‘play’ button. 

Daniel shooed everyone out of the room, picking up the stereo and steering Jack away with him. “Okay, first thing we have to discuss is the music,” he began, already curious about what Jack had found to play.  “We have to think about what would be most exemplary of the human psyche—“ 

Jack clapped him on the shoulder.  “You think too much, Daniel,” he shot back with a grin.  “What we need is a good beat with a great bass signature and electric guitar on reverb.  _Spirit in the Sky_ by Norman Greenbaum.  Can’t go wrong with that one.” 

Daniel chuckled in spite of himself, and followed the Colonel to a distant space where they could begin the search for the proper music to inspire the Ancients to let them in.

 

* * *

 

 

A sleeping bag was laid out on the center of the diagram on the Storehouse floor. He glanced at the open walls, feeling a distinct sense of being watched, though he knew Jack would keep everyone away so there would be no audience. 

Shannon reclined on the makeshift bed, her cheeks flushed red in the lamplight, a blanket drawn up to her neck. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked softly. 

She swallowed hard and looked at him with a fragile, sad smile.  “Yeah, Danny love.  It’s okay.  We’ve done it before, you know.  You’ve got a condom, right?” 

“Yeah.  I’ve been carrying them with me... since we’ve been sexually active.” 

He felt so awkward, sliding under the covers, slipping off his boxers, and reaching out to kiss her. It all felt so contrived, so false, but they had agreed that this was the only expression of love that would work, since it had been so plainly indicated in the symbol.  They proceeded to fondle each other stiffly until they were both aroused, and got right to it with mechanical precision.  The act was awkward and humiliating, and when it was over he lay beside her and looked up at the ceiling. 

“It didn’t work,” he said softly, already sure of the outcome. 

“No, I don’t think it did,” she agreed with a sigh.  Silence followed.  “Maybe if we try it with some sentiment…  And I’m not suggesting we just mouth the words and hope it flies.” 

“What _are_ you suggesting, then?” 

She turned to face him in the amber lamplight.  “Blow out the lamp, Danny.  Pretend I’m Shau’ri, and you haven’t unburied the ‘gate yet.  That none of the terrible things of the last many years have happened, and you’re happy, at home with her on Abydos.  Love her, through me.” 

He wasn’t sure he could do that.  Those memories were so far away from his heart now, painfully out of reach, but the suggestion was generous.  He felt warmer inside, more relaxed. “And who will I be, in your heart?” 

She smiled and winked at him.  “That’s _my_ fantasy, love.  All we have to do is pretend. Fantasize we’re with someone we love, and make it real in our minds.” 

“My _mind_ , I can do.  My heart’s another story.” 

Shannon sobered.  “Yeah. I know what you mean, but I don’t think we have much choice here. If we don’t _feel_ something, it’s not going to work.” 

“I think there may be more to it, Shannon.”  Daniel touched his fingertips to her cheek, his heart aching for both of them.  He struggled to push the words out, but they wouldn’t come.  Intuition was his guide, but from the moment the idea sparked in his consciousness, the more he was certain it was correct. 

“What more is there?”  She turned her head and kissed his wrist gently. 

He rolled away from her and picked up one of the condom packages.  Lying on his back, he held it aloft and studied it.  “There can’t be any barriers between us.  Using one indicates reservation, something vital withheld.”  He tossed the unopened package back on the floor beside their sleeping bag and propped up on an elbow so he could see her. 

Fear blossomed in her eyes.  “Danny, the timing…” 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “You know I care about you, Shannon.  I won’t abandon you.  If we do this, we do it together.  It’s the _only_ way to open the door.  I don’t know _how_ I know, but I’m sure of it.” 

She sat up and looked down at him, incredulous.  “How can you lie there and say that so calmly? You _do_ understand what you’re suggesting, don’t you?” 

He put one hand behind his head and licked his lips, his gaze steadily matched to hers.  “Yes.  I do.”  With his free hand, he brought her knuckles to his mouth for a kiss.  “I don’t want to live the rest of my life alone, Shannon.  I want there to be someone to come home to at the end of the day.  And even if we’re not in love with each other, we’re good friends. We could be happy together.  I could be satisfied with that.” 

“I’m not sure I can.” 

“Do you trust me?” 

“You know I do, Danny love.” 

“Do you want me?” 

She studied him for a long time, a storm of emotions playing across her face.  She struggled with the decision, and then turned away as the tears started to fall. 

He heard her expel a deep, shaky breath, and then she lay down on her back beside him with a sigh of resignation. 

“I trust you, Danny.” 

He leaned over and blew out the lamp, putting the room into complete, utter darkness.  He couldn’t see anything, and closed his eyes to try to expand his other senses to compensate.  He could hear Shannon breathing, hear the rustle of the blankets as she moved beneath them.  He could smell the military issue soap and deodorant she had used to bathe with that morning, along with her personal scent, pleasantly female, mixed with the perfume of sex that clung to them both. And he could feel her warmth, lying on the sleeping bag beside him. 

She was waiting for him to make the first move. 

He tried to remember the good days when he had been happy, but Shau’ri’s smile was fleeting, gone before he could grasp it.  He sighed, his heart sinking.  He couldn’t do it, because his heart simply would not believe. 

This was _Shannon_.  She was his friend, and she was trying hard to help him succeed.  She had walked through the Stargate she had vowed never to enter again, given him her body in the line of duty, and now lay waiting for him to use her as a substitute for his wife. 

That kind of dedication humbled him, and made him thankful that he had her as a friend. 

He cared for her.  He felt protective of her, though she seemed to be adapting well now, needing him less.  That made him a little sad.  He _wanted_ her to need him.  He wanted _somebody_ to need him. 

“Shannon, I…” 

Her mouth settled over his with such gentleness that he couldn’t breathe for a moment.  Her hand touched his face, fingertips tracing over the planes of his cheek, threading into his hair.  Her tongue smoothed against his, and he tasted the flavor of his body still lingering in her mouth.  A small, satisfied sound slipped out of him, and he cradled her head above him, delighting in the feel of her silken hair against his hand.  He felt himself smiling into her kiss.  Her hand stroked over his arm – she liked the swell of his biceps – and across his chest.  She was an incredibly sexy woman, and never failed to arouse him, even when she wasn’t trying. 

“What?” she smiled. 

“Keep going, baby.  You’re getting some response down there.” 

Her hand slipped lower to confirm.  “Will I be doing this all by myself, Doctor Jackson?” 

Groaning loudly, he chuckled.  “Maybe I’m getting lazy, Doctor Murphy.”  He grinned back at her in the blackness, enjoying the tease.  His hands slid down the back of her neck, over her shoulders and down to her ribs, then smoothed upward to cup her breasts in his palms. 

“Careful.  They’re really sensitive at the moment.” 

“Was I too rough before?”  He moved his hands to her buttocks instead.  Her skin felt like satin. She was so warm, so willing, so… Shannon…  He wanted to be tender with her this time.  He wanted her to know he cared. 

“No.”  Her lips descended on his neck as her leg slipped across his abdomen.  She straddled him, and the covers slipped off her body, pooling on his thighs. 

He was all raw nerve endings, his skin electrified with her touch.  Everything seemed to go in slow motion in the utter darkness – her left hand splaying on his chest… her right grasping his naked erection and guiding it home… the wet warmth of her lips leaving his neck at the same moment her womanhood swallowed him up. 

“Oh, God…” he moaned, grasping her around the waist, writhing slightly away from her.  It was too much, too good.  He lay still in the cool darkness, the only warmth where she was touching him, scorching him to the sound of soft suction as he filled her up. 

“Yessss…” she breathed.  “Oh, yessss…  You feel so good inside me, love.”  Her movements were sensual, her body gliding onto and off of him.  His fingers squeezed her softness, lifting her as she rose, pulling her down harder as she impaled herself on him. 

“Shannon—“  It felt too exquisite to bear.  He couldn’t remember why he’d held back before, and arched his back as he struggled to endure the sweet torture.  He wanted to fill her up with himself, to climb up inside her and lose himself there.  He groaned and clutched at her, forcing her to move faster, harder, as his passion rose, burning so brightly he could see it. 

_He could see..._

Daniel opened his eyes to the flickering light shining through his eyelids. 

The aurora borealis that decorated the Siraketan sky glimmered in the room, albeit a pale shadow of what lit up the night on that alien world.  All around them the rainbow glowed, and as he watched, the light suffused her skin.  The sun rose in the center of her chest, radiating out with blinding brightness.  Her eyes were closed, and she let her head fall back as she rode him, whimpering softly, her face in shadow. 

He sat up, lost in wonder, his arms sliding up behind her to pull her close.  He had never seen anything like this in his life!  This was magic, beauty… love.  Something wet splashed on his chest, and he realized she was crying.  What she was feeling was _real._

“Don’t cry, Shannon,” he begged her, his hands moving up to her face, to wipe away her tears. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears streaming across her cheeks as she bent her head toward him. She wouldn’t open her eyes, wouldn’t look at him, but he was sure she knew they’d been successful. She could see the lights just as he had, even through closed eyelids. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he urged her.  “Feel it, Shannon.  Let it shine.  Light up the world.” 

His heart soared as he watched her dance in his arms.  She felt so small, so helpless.  He felt himself cresting and pushed toward it just as she cried out, her muscles squeezing him with the rhythmic pulse of ecstasy.  He clutched at her, holding her tightly against him, pulling her down hard upon his manhood, filling her with his seed.  He saw where they were joined, and was blinded by the brilliance. 

It was done.  The floor beneath them sparkled, and Daniel glanced away at the ‘love’ glyph appearing on the floor.  He turned back to Shannon.  

She was looking at him in silence, her expression unreadable. 

“Did we do the right thing?” 

“We lit up the room, honey,” he breathed, stroking her bare back.  He nodded, unable to repress a delirious grin.  “We did it.” 

“That’s not what I was talking about,” she murmured softly, and glanced at the chevron glowing on the floor. 

He felt her quivering and reached up to her face again with his hand, fingers extended tentatively and sliding across fresh wetness on her cheek. 

“Kiss me,” he breathed, and her lips came down on his with passion and need he had not expected.  His heart hurt. 

“Tell me,” he begged.  “Who were you thinking of, just now?” 

She opened haunted eyes, staring down at him, her face filled with longing and loss.  “I’m sorry, Danny.  That’s not something you need to know.  It was just for _me_.” 

He bowed his head, curling up beneath her chin and holding her close.  He _wanted_ to know.  He _needed_ to know.  But more than anything, _he wanted to be the one._

“We should call the others,” she suggested easing back in his embrace. 

“First we get dressed.”  He patted her bottom and she got off him, reaching for her clothes.  Her body gave off enough light that he had no trouble finding his clothes, and he dressed in a hurry.

Daniel came jogging barefoot down the hallway, tucking his T-shirt into his BDU trousers. 

“Okay, everybody!  First chevron is encoded.  Let’s get ready to move out.” 

“Daniel, you dog!” Carter teased, punching his shoulder playfully.  “I haven’t seen you look so happy in, well, _ever!_ Congratulations.  How’s Shannon?” 

“Ask her yourself... but later,” he answered with a gleam in his eye.  “We’ve got work to do.” 

“No,” Jack corrected, holding up his index finger.  “It’s playtime.” 

The Colonel ordered a handful of guards into the empty rooms ringing the Storehouse, weapons at ready, and carried the boom box and stack of CDs back into the room.  They picked up Teal’c on the way and gathered in the southernmost room next to the Storehouse. 

For a moment Jack hesitated, glancing down at the weapon slung across his shoulders.  “Let’s leave our arms behind for this one, shall we, kids?” he advised. 

“You sure about that, Colonel?” Sam asked.  “We don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other side.” 

Jack cocked his head and studied the dangerous machine in his hands. 

He thought of Charlie, and nodded. 

“Yeah.  We won’t need them, where we’re going.  That ‘gate only goes one place, and they didn’t take their weapons with them.  I’m guessing we should follow protocol.” 

Daniel smiled and happily laid his weapons on the floor.  He turned toward the open Storehouse wall panel.  “Are you decent, Shannon?” Daniel called. 

“Ready, Doctor Jackson.”  She was sitting on the chevron almost fully dressed, putting on her boots, when they came in. 

“Holy Hannah!” Sam murmured in awe, eyeing the radiant woman on the floor.  “Um, Daniel, maybe you ought to, uh, give lessons…” 

Daniel could smell the scent of sex in the room and was aware that everyone else could, too, but his teammates were distracted from what had just happened by the most stunning sight: the radiant floor design and the woman sitting on it.

The sleeping bag had been neatly rolled out of the way, and the spot where it had been was sparkling, just like Doctor Murphy herself.

“Merry Christmas,” Jack announced with a grin and shook his head.  “You’re lit up like a yule log, there, Smurf.” 

Shannon eye him with a wicked, satisfied smile, and just a hint of sadness in her eyes. 

“Look, Colonel.  A pattern’s emerging in the light on the floor.  It’s the first symbol.”  Carter pointed to the spot, just to the left of the central glyph.  “Looks like you did it, guys.  Good work!  First chevron locked.” 

Daniel offered Shannon his hand.  “It wasn’t work,” he quipped, and pulled her to her feet. 

“Let’s get this party started shall we?  There’s no telling how long that chevron will stay activated, and you guys don’t want to wait for us to have to light it up again, I’m sure.” 

He sat down to put on socks and boots while Jack set up the stereo.  With a shock, he remembered he hadn’t picked up the used condom, and almost wilted with relief when he confirmed that Shannon had already discreetly disposed of it. 

“So when do I start my stand-up routine?” the Colonel asked, putting the first CD in. 

Soft chuckles rippled across the room.  Jack noted that even Teal’c was smiling.  “Have you _ever_ laughed, Teal’c?” 

“I have.  On many occasions.” 

“Well, get that funnybone in gear, buddy.  We need all the help we can get here, since we don’t really know what the hell we’re doing.” 

“Is that not usually the case, O’Neill?” 

Jack pointed at him, and cackled.  “Good one!  You’re getting the hang of it.” 

He punched the play button just as Daniel got to his feet. 

“Okay, everybody sing!  You know the words.”  He motioned his hands to gather everyone together in the big room, right into the middle of the floor design. 

“Oh, Jack, not that one!” Daniel groaned as the electric resonance of _Spirit in the Sky_ reverberated through the room.  “It’s so fatalistic!” 

“It’s a _classic_ ,” Jack teased. 

“Is it not a religious song?” asked Teal’c.  “The message is rather spiritual.” 

Daniel grinned and shook his head.  He reached for Sam.  “Come on, Sam.  Let’s dance.” 

“Six left feet, remember?  I’ll just watch, thanks.” 

“Get with it, Carter,” Jack barked, strumming his air guitar.  “Team effort here.  _Everybody_ plays.” 

Daniel’s shoulders swayed in time to the music, and soon he was stomping and twirling across the floor, chasing Shannon as she shimmied and undulated, her hands busy in the air, tracing the story of the Ancients written on the walls. 

Sam shook her head and started to move, and a moment later Jack burst out laughing. 

Cheeks red with embarrassment, Carter didn’t stop her awkward attempt to dance, and cheered when Teal’c joined in.  He was surprisingly graceful, but the movements looked more like he was shadow boxing with Sam instead of dancing with her, which tickled her all the more.  She started to giggle, and the sound was infectious. 

Soon all of them were laughing, and two more symbols lit up on the floor, splashing the walls and ceiling in the light of a rainbow. 

“Now, that’s a helluva disco ball!” Jack called as the next song came on.  “Okay, everybody sing!” 

They had been practicing, each of them taking a different part in the harmony.  All had decent voices, but Daniel surprised them all – including himself – with his clear tenor and excellent ear for pitch.  And as they started their _a capella_ delivery of _The Lion Sleeps Tonight_ , Teal’c lost it and started to laugh. 

He apologized immediately.  “I am sorry, O’Neill.  I was remembering our first attempt at this song last night.” 

“Yeah, it was pretty awful, wasn’t it?”  Jack grinned and slapped the Jaffa on the shoulder.  “Get your head in the game, buddy.  We’ve still got two chevrons to light up.” 

They tried again, Teal’c’s deep baritone thundering through Daniel’s high-pitched lead.  Sam, Jack and Shannon provided the other harmonies, and by the time they finished the first chorus and hit the refrain, the symbol for ‘sing’ had awakened.  They finished the song in a spasm of laughter and fell out of formation trying to catch their collective breaths.

 “Now, what, Jack?” asked Daniel.  He put his hands to his cheeks.  “My face hurts.  I haven’t smiled this much in… way too long.  I forgot how it feels.” 

Jack ducked into the next room for a moment, and then returned with a bright yellow object spinning on his index finger. 

“Walmart special,” he announced proudly.  “Five bucks, for those of you who are interested.” 

He caught the soccer ball on his palm, then juggled it a little to show it off. 

“It’s a smiley face,” Daniel observed. 

“Yup.  I didn’t know when I sent the supplies through that we’d be rained out of soccer season entirely, but hey, people gotta play or they’ll go nuts.”  He pitched the ball at Daniel, who caught it, and then dropped it on the floor. 

“The Siraketans used to play a game I liked,” he said somberly, remembering.  “There’s no score. Nobody wins.  You just kick the ball.” 

“No score?” Jack asked dubiously.  “Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Just try it, Jack.  The object is to keep anybody else from getting the ball.”  He took a step and gave it a little nudge with his toe. 

Teal’c rushed up and kicked it away from him, but Daniel dodged around him and took it back. Sam cut across and snatched it away, carrying it off in her hands with a wild chortle of wicked glee. 

“You can’t use your hands, Sam!” Daniel assured her.  “Give it back.” 

“Come and get it!” she challenged, drop kicking it to Shannon, who dribbled it over to Jack like a basketball. 

O’Neill couldn’t help laughing.  “This is without a doubt the silliest game I’ve ever seen.”  And then he lobbed it like a volleyball back to Daniel, who butted it with his head and laughed out loud.  Teal’c slammed it with his fist and Jack dodged it as it flew past him.  Everybody was laughing as the fifth symbol lit up and the stone square delineating the edges of the pattern began to rise slightly. 

Jack stepped off long enough to retrieve the ball, and rejoined his team on the platform.  The whole room lit up, and suddenly they were all… somewhere else. 

The sun was shining.  Green grass made a soft carpet beneath their boots.  Flowers and trees grew nearby, and four pedestals marked the corners of the landing pad, each inscribed with the commandments on the walls of the Storehouse.  The fifth symbol was planted in flowers all around them, stretching out as far as the eye could see. 

“Play,” Jack read.  He dropped the ball and kicked it away, racing after it with the rest of the group following after him, trying to get it away from him.  Peals of laughter echoed in the meadow, echoed by the high-pitched giggle of a small child. 

Jack stopped and searched for the source, and the others followed suit. 

The ball rolled away out of sight behind a clump of bushes. 

And then it came rolling right back, bumping to a stop against Jack’s shins. 

“Hello, over there,” he called, waving slightly. 

A small dark head popped into view.  The Being was laughing, not more than four feet tall, and raced into view with a blinding white toga that made Jack reach for his sunglasses.  The child couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. 

“Hey, there, buddy.  How about you go get your Mom or Dad?  We’d like to talk to ‘em.” 

“Hi,” said the child.  “I’m Tira.” 

“I’m Jack.”  He pointed over his shoulder.  “That’s Daniel, Sam, Shannon and Teal’c.” 

Tira cocked his head, staring at Teal’c.  “You are Jaffa, yes?” 

Teal’c smiled broadly.  “Yes, but I do not serve the Goa’uld.  I serve the Tau’ri.” 

“Yay!”  Tira clapped his hands and jumped up and down. 

“We must celebrate, Teal’c.  Come.”  He ran up and grasped the giant’s hand, towing him off toward a low hill not far away. 

The others followed, Jack and Daniel shrugging at each other.  As they crested the hill, the sight that greeted them made their brows draw together in confusion.  Below them was what appeared to be a giant playground filled with children all about Tira’s age.  There wasn’t an adult in sight. Nor was there any indication of homes or dwelling places.  Just the playground and the children. 

“Um, Tira, where are your parents?” Daniel asked, squatting down by the boy. 

Tira’s expression was solemn.  He put his small hands on Daniel’s face.  “You have the shadow of an old one on your heart.  He hurts you.” 

Daniel’s light mood faded completely at the reminder.  “Yes.  Yes, that’s true, but that’s not why we’re here.  We came to meet the Ancients.  Do you know where they are?” 

A little girl with hair so blonde it was nearly white came skipping up.  “We’re here,” she announced blithely.  “We’ve been waiting for you.” 

Daniel’s brow creased and folded in utter confusion.  He glanced up at Jack, then back at the children.  _“You’re_ the Ancients?” 

The girl shrugged.  “We like this form best, so we chose to keep it.  My name is Chini.  Would you like to meet the others?” 

“Uh, we’d like to meet your parents, if we could,” Daniel insisted. 

Jack smiled paternally.  “I don’t think you get it, Daniel,” he explained, leaning closer to his friend. 

He surveyed the playground, his heart warming with boundless joy.  “These really _are_ the Ancients.  They can choose how they appear to us, and this is the shape that best communicates what they believe are the most important qualities for us to understand.” 

The little girl took Jack’s hand and smiled up at him.  “Yes. That’s it, exactly.” 

Daniel contemplated.  “ _Love. Laugh. Sing. Dance_. And _play_.” 

Chini leaned over and kissed Daniel on the lips.  “Yes.  You need to _play_ , Danny.” 

“I’ve never been very good at that,” he confessed. 

The child let go of Jack and leaned over slightly, hands on her knees, getting right up into Daniel’s face.  “You _love_ to play,” she corrected.  “You like puzzles. You figure things out, and make friends.  _That’s_ how you like to play. Isn’t it?” 

Daniel sat down on the grass, a little stunned by the idea.  “Yeah.  I guess it is, but how did you know?” 

“We know who you are,” Chini announced.  “We’ve watched you travel the roads we left behind.” 

She turned to Jack, looking way up at him. 

He politely sat down to be on eye level with her, followed by the rest of the team. 

“ _You’re_ the one who’s not doing it right, Jack.”  She shook her little index finger at him, her other hand on her hip as she scolded him. 

“Not doing _what_ right, Chini?”  He couldn’t help touching that soft cheek in wonder.  The child was so perfect, so beautiful, that it made his heart ache. 

She pointed to Daniel.  “He opened the _chaappa’ai_ , you know.  You’re supposed to be following _him_ , helping him find the way.” 

“The way to what?” 

Daniel toyed with a blade of perfect grass.  “Making friends and influencing people,” he finished for her. 

“Technology isn’t the answer,” Chini assured them both.  “If it were, we could have destroyed the Goa’uld long ago, but annihilation of another species is not the Way.  _Anyone_ can destroy, and we were tempted.  That’s why we left your universe, and came here.” 

“You’re the Fifth Race,” Tira reminded them.  “And each race has a part to play in this great quest for peace.” 

“The Nox show us compassion for all,” Chini added.  “The Asgard are the keepers of knowledge, yet gentle in their own way.  War is not for either of them.” 

“What about the Furlings?” asked Daniel.  “I’ve seen their writing, along with yours and the others, but we haven’t met them yet.  We don’t know anything about them.” 

Chini and Tira giggled, obviously sharing some private secret.  “The Furlings are the judges, keepers of balance.  They watch over us all.  Even the Goa’uld.” 

“Then why don’t they stop ‘em?” Jack demanded.  “Somebody’s got to. We’re tryin’ like… heck.” 

“The Furlings can’t take action any more than the Nox, though it’s in their power to do so.  Like all of the Four Races, we have the capability to conquer and destroy, but we choose not to interfere. The struggle belongs to those like you and the Goa’uld, who still have so much to learn.” 

“Hey, don’t lump us in with those snakes!” Jack shot back.  He was instantly sorry for his grouchy tone, but he resented the implication that humans were in _any_ way similar to those… things. 

“Then tell us where we can meet the Furlings,” Daniel requested politely.  “Maybe we could put our case before them, and sway them into helping—“ 

“The struggle isn’t _theirs_ , Danny,” Chini repeated.  “It’s _yours_ , and they’ll show themselves to you when they’re ready.” 

“So what do we do in the meantime?” Jack demanded.  “We can’t just play all day… much as we might like to do that.  We have to find ways to defend ourselves.”  He paused, eyeing the little girl unhappily.  “Um, especially since they’re using _your_ weapons on us.” 

Chini and Tira bowed their heads, suddenly contrite.  Every laughing voice on the playground suddenly silenced, and the children grew still. 

“We regret this deeply,” she said in a soft murmur. There were tears in her gray eyes as she searched their faces for understanding.  She gestured around them.  “We couldn’t – wouldn’t – bring weapons into this sacred place.  We gave up all our machines, all our technology and civilization, to live by the five commandments in this…” 

“Ninth Space,” Jack finished for her. 

She smiled.  “You remember.” 

“Wait, what is—“ 

“Later, Carter,” Jack said softly, waving a dismissing hand at her.  “Help us defend ourselves, Chini.  Help us free Teal’c’s people.  Help us send the Gould where they belong.” 

She cocked her little head at him.  “And where is that, Jack?”  She sat down at his feet and waited for an answer. 

He pursed his lips.  He frowned at her.  He didn’t want to tell her the first thing that came to mind, because it wasn’t something he should say in front of a child, even though he knew she wasn’t really a child.  The way she talked proved that her intellect was far in advance of an immature mind. 

Daniel got up and walked away, back over the hill the way they had come, his brow furrowed, expression troubled and hopeless. 

“Okay, you got me.  I don’t know what to do with ‘em.  Maybe the Furlings can decide that, once we get the snakes all rounded up and driven out of Ireland.  Figuratively speaking, of course.” 

Chini watched Daniel retreating out of sight, returning to the doorway.  “Ask Danny, Jack.  He‘ll know what to do.” 

“He’s had one of those things inside him, y’know.  Lost his wife to one of ‘em, too.  He might not be the most objective guy to ask, if you know what I mean.” 

Chini stood up and put her arms around Jack’s neck, hugging him sweetly.  He embraced her right back, and kissed her cheek.  “We know.  But he’s always known, even though he hasn’t always done the right thing.  _Trust_ him, Jack.  He has to find the Mandanu.” 

“What does that mean?” asked Sam. 

Jack held up a hand to quiet her, a look of amazement on his face.  “He does?  And I’ve been getting in the way.  Time to fix that, huh?” 

The girl beamed at him and nodded vigorously, platinum curls bouncing all around her face.  “Help him find the Peacebringer.”  She eyed each of them in turn.  “All of you.  He can’t do it alone.” 

“Daniel Jackson is not alone,” Teal’c rumbled, “though he has always felt that he is.” 

“Then teach him that he’s not,” Tira added.  “Now, when he needs you, most of all.”  His eyes went to Shannon, who looked away at the grass. 

A little red haired girl came careening up to them.  “Time to play!” she chortled, and raced off again.  Chini and Tira took the hands of the adults closest to them, and tugged them down toward the playground to do just that.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel wandered around the four stone markers, tracing his fingers over the patterns on each one.  He waited for what seemed a very long time, and eventually stretched out on his back on the grassy platform in the middle of the markers.  He put his hands behind his head and looked up at the sky, watching the clouds drift idly by, looking at the shapes for hieroglyphs or pictograms that he could translate, anything to keep his mind occupied. 

He grew drowsy in the warm sunshine, and closed his eyes beneath his shades for a moment to rest them from the brightness. 

_He found himself in a dream, looking into a pair of eyes as black as night, yet filled with stars. Those eyes measured him, saw every weakness, every fault, and he hung his head in shame._

“Wake up, Daniel.  Nap time’s over.  Time to go home.”  Jack nudged him with the toe of his boot. 

“Sorry.  Must’ve dozed off.  Did anything else happen?”  He lifted his head and noticed a neatly folded pile of cloth on his chest. 

“Yeah.  We played.  You shoulda been there, cause you need more of that than the rest of us.” 

Jack caught his arm and helped haul him to his feet as he examined the cloth. 

“Jeez, Daniel.  You sound like an old man getting up, all groans and moans.” 

“I _feel_ old, Jack.  Centuries.  Eons, even.” 

He unfolded the garment, and a feather fell out of it. Picking it up, he returned to his study of the robe.  It was a dark red at the hem, fading up to white on the left shoulder and black on the right.  A stole was attached to the neck, embroidered in a rainbow of colors, the writings in a variety of languages.  He mumbled a translation of some of the words he recognized, then turned it around to look at the back.  The design was a larger duplicate of the feather he held between his fingers – the shaft a brilliant scarlet, swelling up to a black spot at the end, dominated by a blue eye, like a peacock’s tail feather. 

“What’s a Mandanu?” he asked no one in particular. 

Jack remained silent. 

“Someone you’re supposed to find,” Sam volunteered.  “Sounded like somebody pretty important. The Ancients called him the Peacebringer.” 

Daniel shrugged, folded up the robe again, straightened his clothes, brushed his hair out of his eyes and glanced around.  “Okay.  Where are the Ancients?” 

“Still playin’.  They said you’d understand if they didn’t come to say goodbye.” 

Daniel frowned.  “Yeah. I got it.  I’m too old to play with them.” 

“You’re not _old_.  You’re younger than _me_ , so stop sayin’ that.” 

“Well, I _feel_ old.” 

“We’ll never get home if you don’t get with the program.”  Jack tossed the ball at him. 

Daniel tossed it back.  “Sorry.  I’m not in the mood.” 

Jack flipped the ball over his shoulder and let it roll away in the grass.  “They’ll enjoy it,” he promised gently.  “We’ll leave it as a little souvenir from Earth.  C’mon, little bro.  We gotta go home now.” 

They all assembled on the square and Daniel sidled up to Shannon, reaching for her hand.  He squeezed it and tried to get her to look at him. 

She blushed, her eyes pleading not to have to do anything intimate in public. 

Jack grabbed Sam from behind and tickled her, bringing forth a startled yelp of laughter. 

Teal’c started to sing, his deep voice booming over the landscape, and Daniel swept Shannon into his arms and started slow-dancing with her.  His lips descended on hers briefly, but it was enough. 

The lights came on, and suddenly they were back in the Storehouse, in the dark. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for flying Ancients Air.  You may unbuckle your seat belts and exit through the nearest Stargate.  That is, if the thing hasn’t floated away by now…”  Jack stepped off the square just as it started to sink back into the floor. 

Teal’c continued to sing as he strolled out the doorway and into the empty room beyond. Jack picked up the tune, adding a gravelly lead to his background, playing his air guitar as they left the area. 

Daniel plodded along with his head down, unaware that he was still holding Shannon’s hand until she slipped from his grasp. 

She hurried away down one of the other corridors, heading for her temporary quarters. 

He let her go and wondered if it had actually been necessary for them to copulate to open the doorway, when a simple embrace seemed to have done the trick for activating the mechanism to get them back to Siraket. 

He thought about what they had done.  As soon as they could manage, they’d be getting back to their regular lives.  Shannon would return to her post in Archives and never have to go through the ‘gate again.  He’d be back out on missions, slipping into his regular pattern of living, barely seeing her except in passing, unless he troubled himself to make time for her.  This chapter in their lives would quietly close, and they would both move on from there.  He would go back to quiet nights alone in his apartment with his cat, and she would continue dancing down the halls of the SGC, cataloguing the stuff he brought back from missions, keeping records and aiding in research, as they had both done for many years. 

Shannon seemed distant now, as if she had shut herself off from him.  He wondered again who she had been fantasizing about while they were intimate, sure he already knew the answer. Though she hadn’t called David’s name, the grief on her face had been enough of a hint.  She wanted someone else, and that hurt.  Still, they had taken an irrevocable step in the Storehouse, and they’d have to live with what they’d done.  They needed to talk about it, if for no other reason than to discuss how they would word their reports once they got back to Earth, only Shannon didn’t seem willing.  She didn’t seem to want to be around him at all, and that worried him. 

Daniel headed for the front door and walked out into the rain without realizing it.  He took up a post on the forearms of the statue and leaned back against the stone creature’s high neck with a sigh. 

He hurt inside, and there was no cure for that. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

He didn't look at his boss.  “Waiting to go home.” 

“We’ve got some time yet.  Gotta wait for the water to recede a little.”  Jack jerked his thumb toward the Stargate down slope.  The stream around which the camp had been built was now a river, so wide they’d be swept away if they tried to cross it to leave the planet. 

“Yeah.  I know.” 

“It’s rainin’ out, Daniel.” 

Daniel was slightly surprised to find that true. “Okay. I’ll be in in a minute.” 

Jack leaned on the great stone feet.  “You wanna talk?” 

“No.  Thanks.” 

“Lots of things to think about, I know,” Jack observed, squinting out from underneath the brim of his ball cap.  “Do you understand the word, ‘Mandanu,’ Daniel?” 

“Never heard it before.  What language?” 

“Originally, it was a Furling word that the Ancients adopted.”  Jack raised a dark eyebrow.  “I figure, if you’re the one who has to find this guy, that makes you pretty important.  And don’t ask me how I know all that.  I just do.” 

Daniel shrugged. 

“Why don’t we go back inside, and you can drag out some of your reference books and try to look it up?  I’ll even help, if you want.” 

“You mean, you don’t already know what it means?” 

Jack beamed.  “Yeah, I do,.. but I want you to find out for yourself.  That’s what the Ancients told you to do.” 

Daniel glanced down at the tattoos on his arms.  “Probably something like ‘haunted’ or ‘damned.’  Close?” 

“Ice cold.  C’mon.  You’ll catch your death out here in the rain.  I’m surprised you’re not already—“ 

_“T’chooo!”_

“—sneezing.” 

Daniel peeled himself off the statue and ambled slowly back inside the temple in Jack’s wake.  “I don’t suppose you could just tell me…” 

“Chini said ‘play,’ Daniel.  Time for you to have some fun, doing what you love best.”  He slapped Daniel on his wet shoulder.  “I mean, if we can’t trust the Ancients who built the Stargates in the first place, who _can_ we trust?” 

Daniel shook his head, a grin stealing across his face.  “Okay, okay.  I get the message. I’ll go to work, and get my reports written up ASAP.” 

“Good man.  Prepare to get happy.”  Jack took off his cap as soon as they got inside, shook the water off it, and slapped it back on his head.  “And when we get home, we’re playin’ some baseball together.  That or I’m givin’ you guitar lessons.  You pick.” 

Daniel studied his companion as they trudged down the dimly lit corridor.  “You surprised me, Jack.  I never figured you as the musician type.” 

“I was in a band in high school.  Played lead guitar.  Long hair and everything.  Great way to pick up chicks.”  Jack waggled his eyebrows meaningfully. 

Daniel chuckled.  “You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.  Yet another layer of the onion that is Jack O’Neill.” 

“Nope, that’s all behind me now.  I just drag Rosebud out when I’m convalescing and have to spend too much time on my ass.” 

“Rosebud?” 

“My guitar.” 

“You have a guitar?” 

“I have a lot of stuff you’ve never seen.  But we’re not goin’ there right now.  We’re talkin’ about teaching you to use that crisp tenor of yours without the nasal overtones.  Voice lessons.” 

“Oh, come on, Jack—“ 

_“You_ come on!  Break me off a little Three Dog Night.” 

“I don’t know many songs newer than Mozart, Jack.  Like I said, I never tried to sing before. Mostly because I never listen to the radio, except for the news and weather.” 

“Which has to change.  You gotta learn the value of humming.  Starting now.  _Lion Sleeps._   I know you know that one.” 

“You know I play the piano, right? And all the other musical instruments hanging on the walls of my apartment.” 

“Sing, Daniel.”

_"In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight..."_

Jack guided Daniel back to the chamber that had been the archaeologist’s bedroom for the past few days, watching behind them for trespassers who might be in earshot. 

When he was certain there was no one else about, he motioned for Daniel to cut it off. 

“What?” asked Daniel uncertainly.  “I was on key!  Did I mess up the lyrics?” 

Jack glanced back at the doorway and maneuvered around his friend to face it so he’d know if anyone came up on them. 

When he spoke, he did not use English, but a language that both of them now spoke fluently, though few other human beings knew. 

 _< “I have a favor to ask.”>_  He reached into the inner pocket of his vest and pulled out a flattened roll of what appeared to be handmade paper.  _< “You were off by yourself for a little while on the other side of the rainbow, so I would like for you to put into an official report that you received this during that time, from one of the Ancients.  Please.”>_

“What is it?” Daniel took the paper and unrolled it, examining the tiny, precise script and the technical drawings.  His eyes went wide. 

_< “We cannot come back empty handed from a visit to the Ancients,”>_ Jack explained _. < “Or with only a nice dress for somebody we have not even met yet, and I do not want this traced back to me.”>_

“Is this what I think it is?”  Daniel’s mouth hung open as he studied the schematics. 

_< “A few of the remnants from my encounter with that head-hugger of theirs a few years back.”>_  Jack kept his voice low.  _< “I made the paper from fibers gathered on half a dozen worlds, mixed the ink from pigments from a few more, so it is not traceable back to Earth.  I kept hoping we would locate another place with treasures from the Ancients where we could pretend to find this, but now that have seen them face to face, I believed this would be the best place to palm it off.  Will you tell that lie for me, _Daniel _?  Because it is not really a lie.  We did get this from the Ancients, just not directly.”>_

Daniel concentrated on the design, reading through enough of the text to understand what it was, how valuable a tool it would be against the Goa’uld.  He rolled it up and stared at the paper in his hand.  Then he raised his eyes to his CO’s.  “This has the potential for a great deal of backlash, Jack.  If we give this up to the SGC, you know NID’s going to get their dirty little fingers on it.  And they’re gonna want more.” 

Jack shrugged and flashed a devious little grin.  _< “So we tell them the doorway can only be opened once.”>_

“They won’t buy it.  They’ll look at what we did and do their best to copy it.  And the Ancients won’t be too pleased to see the next group of visitors.  Just imagine Maybourne or Simmons heading into that playground.” 

With a smile full of secrets, Jack replied, _< “Perhaps _NID _might succeed in opening the portal, though I doubt they would find anybody willing and able to engage that first chevron properly.”>_  His smile widened.  _< “And I would also bet they do not find a playground full of children on the other side when they arrive.  Do not worry about the Ancients.  They can take care of themselves.  And they trust us to complete the mission they’ve charged us with.”>_

“Which is?” Daniel tucked the paper into his vest. 

_< “Exactly what we set out to do in the first place.  Meet and greet.  And that is your specialty.  See how it all works out so neatly?”>_

Daniel nodded, eyes aimed at the floor, deep in thought. When he regarded his friend again, he felt a tide of worry begin to rise.  “So what _else_ have you been keeping from me?” 

Jack shoved his hands into his pants pockets and strolled away, answering in English.  “We’ll have to talk about that sometime.  Just not here, and not now.” 

The younger man paused.  “Are you okay, Jack?” 

“Peachy, Daniel.  Have been for a while.  You?” 

“I just meant, this had to be hard on you, pretending that you hadn’t been affected by your experience, when it seems to have had quite an impact.” 

Jack shot him a warning glance.  “I know what it’s like to be changed against your will.  And yeah, sometimes it’s hard.  Sometimes I’m not a very nice person because of the war going on inside me, remembering to hide what I know, but all the stuff the Asgard left in my head doesn’t make Jack O’Neill into anyone else.  I’m still _me_.  Just like you’re still _you_ , underneath it all.” 

“What happened to me is different from what happened to you.” 

“Granted. But there are a lot of similarities, too. Stuff we might talk about, once we get home.” 

“I gotta admit, I am curious.” The tide receded, and Daniel felt the familiarity of their relationship settle into place like a warm blanket on a cold night. 

“Just as long as you don’t study me, Daniel.” 

“If it starts to feel that way, just let me know.” 

Jack put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder.  “You can count on that, little bro.  Let’s go see what’s cookin’ in the kitchen.  I’m starved.” 

The two men wandered back into the tunnels, where Daniel changed into dry clothes and put the paper safely away.  They headed toward the room designated as their mess area, and lined up with the others preparing to go through the serving line, both keeping their secrets for another day.

 

* * *

 

 

**June 7**

**Siraket**

The earth shook, and all of the SGC personnel responded accordingly.  Weapons were collected as soldiers dashed past their makeshift armory.  Battle stations were taken up in readiness for the invasion to come as the _ha’tak_ hovered well above the pyramid on the mountain above them. 

Jack headed for the temple entrance, eyeing the water level at the Stargate.  It had receded slightly, enough to allow personnel to access the DHD.  There was a chance they could escape, but their orders were to hold that temple against all invaders. 

He glanced up, stepping out far enough to see the _ha’tak_ spit out a half dozen death gliders.  Once the smaller ships were away, the _ha’tak_ began to ascend again, taking off to get the Goa’uld inside it out of harm’s way.  Jack darted inside and began shouting orders to his people. 

“Daniel, get Shannon out of here,” he called.  “Get her and that package back to base, ASAP!” 

“I’m staying,” he called back, checking his Beretta. 

“Like hell you are! Get your asses to the Stargate!  We’ll cover you.” 

Daniel eyed him for a moment, then glanced around for Shannon. 

Her hands were shaking as she moved the safety off her weapon and tightened the chinstrap on her helmet. 

“I’m not leaving,” Daniel growled.  He took the rolled plans out of his jacket and handed them to the redhead.  “I’ll get you home, but you’ve got to go through by yourself this time.” 

He kissed her, quick and rough.  “Don’t argue.  Just do it.” 

He didn’t give her time to say anything, grabbing her free hand and towing her toward the front entrance of the temple.  He hesitated at the door, shifted his pistol to his left hand and slipped his right into the ribbon device still in his trouser pocket. 

“Just in case,” he told Shannon. 

He waited for Jack to give him the nod, and ran outside with Shannon on his heels, heading down the slope as he checked overhead for pursuit. 

Just behind him, other SGC soldiers began pouring out the mouth of the temple, all of them firing their various weaponry at the gliders now circling over the landscape.  The ships fired back, some striking close to their targets, some right on.  Shouts and screams of pain followed the runners to the Stargate, but Daniel ignored as much as he could, concentrating on the task at hand. 

He dialed home, forcing Shannon down and behind the DHD for protection. 

She fired up at the gliders while he pushed the keys, and he joined her after he punched in the IDC code on his GDO. 

One of the gliders swept in close to the pedestal, aiming right for them. 

Daniel stood up, extended his hand and fired a blast at the machine, all but knocking it out of the sky.  It wobbled in the air and took off, and a moment later, fire rained down from the _ha’tak_ now in orbit, scouring the landscape between the temple and the ‘gate. 

The earth rumbled.  Black clouds formed in the sky and the placid ocean began to swirl and swish as if someone were stirring it with an enormous, invisible spoon. 

Daniel glanced to his right and gasped as a stone pillar broke the surface of the water, rising steadily upward until it towered above the waves.  Blue lightning shot out from the tip of the pillar, aiming high above the pyramid, out of sight. 

The gliders called off their attack and swept upward, disappearing into the clouds, and silence descended once more on Siraket. 

A moment later, a huge piece of the _ha’tak_ fell to earth in a charred, smoking ruin. 

Daniel eased out from beneath the pedestal, searching across the slope for his friends. 

“Jack!” he called, catching sight of his CO.  The event horizon of the wormhole was now stable and waiting to transport him. 

The Colonel jogged up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“I think we found something else on this planet the brass will be interested in,” Jack grinned, glancing at the piece of the Goa’uld mother ship.  “Why don’t you take the Smurf on home and tell Hammond, and then you can come back if you want.  Or stay there.  I think we’ve done what we came here to do, and I can turn this over to Major Phillips to keep safe while our techies prowl around that mothership killer.” 

They all stared out to sea and watched as the pillar sank slowly beneath the waves and the water returned to its normal calm. 

“I’ll wait for the rest of SG-1 to get ready, if that’s okay with you.”  Daniel put his arm around Shannon, who had risen to stand beside him.  He rubbed her back, cuddling her against his body. Then he remembered he still had the ribbon device on, and slipped it into his pocket. 

“Sure thing.”  Jack eyed Shannon.  “You okay, kiddo?” 

She nodded, but her face was snow-white. 

Daniel looked down at her.  “Do you want to go home right now, or wait for me to come with you?” 

She swallowed hard and glanced suspiciously at the ‘gate behind her.  “I’ll wait for you.” 

He kissed her.  “Won’t be long, I promise.  Why don’t you go pack?” 

She nodded and trudged back through the standing water and across the plain toward the temple. 

“You use that ribbon thingie pretty well,” Jack observed.  “Feelin’ god-like yet?” 

Daniel frowned at him.  “ _No_.  Thanks for asking.”  He sighed.  “I suppose that’s got to go in the official report?” 

“Yeah.  Too many witnesses.”  Jack almost smiled.  “But I’ll bet you gave those Jaffa pilots something to think about… like Anubis switching sides?” 

That idea got a grimace.

Daniel opted for a change of subject.

“I’m gonna pack up my stuff, too.  Meet you back here in a few.”  He headed out through the knee-deep water, resetting the safety on his Berretta and strapping it down in his holster. 

Two hours later he was dialing home again with Shannon at his side, their baggage loaded onto the cart carrying all of SG-1’s gear. 

He took her hand and led her back through the ‘gate, feeling her clutching at his arm and squeezing his hand as she approached the event horizon.  Once on the other side, she fainted dead away.  He caught her before she hit the ground and carried her to the infirmary with assurances to General Hammond that she was okay, just over-excited. 

Romani accompanied them, his gear stacked in the obsolete wheelchair he was pushing. Eyebrows lifted in surprise all the way to the infirmary when people caught sight of Romani walking.

The doc gave a full report to Doctor Frasier of the treatments he’d given the woman on Siraket, and his opinion regarding her current condition.  While they discussed Shannon’s care, she roused and Daniel sat on the bed beside her, holding her hand.

“Hi.  We’re home,” he assured her.  “How do you feel?” 

“Woozy.  Okay.  Thrilled to be back.” 

“Shannon, I’m going to draw some blood and run a few tests,” Janet told her.  She glanced up at Daniel.  “You can wait outside, Doctor Jackson.  It’ll just be a couple of minutes.” 

She took a penlight from the pocket of her lab coat and checked her patient’s pupils.  “Any dizziness, headache…” 

“I’m fine, Doctor Frasier.  Really.  Just give me a minute or two, and I’ll be ready to go home. I don’t need any blood tests.  It’s just the stress of going through the ‘gate again, that’s all.”

Shannon sat up slowly and smiled at the doctor.  “See?  I’m okay.” 

Janet looked at Romani, who nodded. “Everyone coming through the ‘gate gets the once-over, Doctor Murphy, and it won’t take long.  However, if you start feeling light headed later, you get back here right away.  And don’t drive for the rest of the day.” 

“I’ll take her home,” Daniel promised. 

Shannon shot him a dark look and got off the bed. 

He followed her out, returned with her to the ‘gate room to fetch their gear, and insisted on carrying hers back to the locker room for her.  Once she had showered and changed, he asked where she’d like to wait for him. 

“I’ll take a taxi home,” she assured him. 

“I’ll drive,” he countered.  “I promised Doctor Frasier I would.” 

“I can take care of myself,” she informed him stiffly.  “We’re both beat.  I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“It’s the middle of the day here.”  He checked his watch.  “Plenty of time to stop by city hall before they close for the day.  Just let me get cleaned up, and we’ll get the process started.” 

“What process?” The redhead was instantly suspicious. 

“Well, first off, we’ll need a license.” 

She stared at him as if he’d gone mad.  Then she turned away.  “Forget it.” 

Something inside him wilted.  “Shannon, we should do this _now_.” 

She wouldn’t even look at him.  “I’m going home,” she announced, and marched down the corridor toward the elevators. 

“Shannon, wait!” 

“Good night, Daniel.” Her voice was loud and edged in anger. 

“I want to come with you.”  He jogged down the hallway to catch up to her. 

“Not tonight.  I plan to sleep.  Just sleep.  I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.  Twice.” 

“That’s because you’re p—“ 

“Don’t say it!” she cried, and covered her ears as she glared at him.  “You don’t know that for a fact.” 

He caught her about the waist and held her.  “I watched it happen,” he told her certainly.  “I _know_ it.  So do you.” 

Tears filled her eyes.  She grimaced and pushed away from him.  “Leave. Me. Alone.” 

“What did I do?”  He followed her as she started off again, genuinely worried and upset.  “Look, I’ll stop by the drug store and get one of those home test kits.  That way, we can both be sure—“ 

“It’s too soon,” she snapped, speeding up to try to leave him behind.  “It’s only been a week.  You have to wait longer.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

She rounded on him with haunted eyes, black with anguish and sorrow.  “Just stop!” she begged. “Please, just stop, Daniel.  Leave me alone.  I don’t want to think about it.  Not now.” 

“I can’t.  We’re part of each other now.  We don’t have a choice.” 

“There’s always a choice.”  She sniffed back her tears, wiped at her eyes, and took off again down the hall, walking resolutely away from him. 

He let her go, confused and hurt by her reaction.  He would let her rest and start checking into the legal requirements for the procedure, so he’d be prepared and know how long each step would take.  When she changed her mind, he’d have all the answers. 

Until then, he’d have to give her some space to let her get herself together before they talked about it again, but mission reports would be due in the next few days, and they still hadn’t agreed on how they were going to word the method they’d used to open the doorway to Ninth Space.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam paced outside the locker room, waiting for the men to finish up so she could shower and change.  The sound of singing reached her, and she smiled. 

Romani wasn’t completely tone deaf, but he was close. 

The joy in the song was unmistakable, though, and it made her smile. 

She had watched him during the attack, sure he’d never been in a battle before, but he’d performed admirably, keeping his wits about him and doing as he was ordered without hesitation.  He was strong emotionally, though his legs would need working out to get him completely back to normal. 

Daniel’s gift would change Romani’s life in all kinds of ways.  He might want to re-think his relationship with her, and she was afraid of that possibility, but she wouldn’t make the first move.  She’d wait and let him take the lead this time, and see how things went. 

He exited the locker room, water still dripping from his dark hair, his glasses steamed and pushed down on his nose so he could see over them. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he beamed.  “Are you off duty yet?” 

“Gotta shower and change,” she assured him.  “And then the debriefing.  If I’m lucky, I’ll be home by midnight.” 

“I’ll wait in my office,” he assured her.  “Come get me when you’re ready to go home.” 

“Don’t you think you should go on home and get some rest?  It’s been a tough week for all of us.” 

Something in his eyes was glowing.  “If you’re too tired, that’s okay,” he murmured, moving closer and touching her shoulder.  “I can wait till morning.  But I’m not going back to my lonely apartment when I could be sleeping next to you.” 

Her heart leaped with hope.  She smiled up at him.  “Okay.  I’ll see you later, then.” 

He grazed a quick kiss on her cheek and strode down the hallway, still humming to himself. 

Sam grabbed a towel and fresh clothes from her locker before ducking into the showers.  She thought about Adam while she bathed, imagining him making love to her now that he was fully functional.  Her hands were shaking as she dressed, and it was hard to keep her mind on business during the debriefing.  She fidgeted in her chair enough to draw a sharp look from the Colonel, and when the meeting was dismissed she shot out of the room like a bullet, heading straight for the psychiatrist’s office.  Moments later, she was driving them to her house, both of them racing to the front door. 

Once inside, they dropped their gear in the entryway, locked the door and started undressing on their way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake.  By the time they hit the bed they were both ready, and Adam climbed on top of her without hesitation.  Their lovemaking was noisy and quick, rough and desperate, and when it was over, when they lay tangled up together on her bedspread, she told him that she loved him. 

Panting from exertion and passion, he stroked her face with his fingertips.  “That scares you, doesn’t it, Sam?” 

“To the bone,” she admitted breathlessly.  “I keep thinking this is too good to be true, and it just keeps getting better.  I’m scared to death, right about now.” 

“Well, don’t worry about a thing,” he assured her with a brief, gentle kiss.  “I don’t plan on going anywhere.” 

“That’s good to know.”  She gazed up at him as he lay propped up on his elbows above her.  He was so gorgeous, even moreso now that he was whole again.  She’d been right about how tall he was – maybe a couple of inches taller than the Colonel – and his height and build made her feel small and feminine.  The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful, _definitely_ not one of the guys.  He made her feel like a woman, through and through. 

Her eyes widened. 

“Oh, shit,” she gasped, and started pushing him off her. 

Panic lit his face.  “What is it, Samantha?” 

“We forgot to use protection!” she blurted, sitting up on the side of the bed.  “God, what if I’m pregnant?”  Her mind was reeling.  She felt ill. 

Romani sighed with relief.  “I thought—I mean, I know this is a serious subject, but it’s okay, honey.  If you are, then we’ll be parents.  If you’re not, we remember this next time and don’t let our hormones run away with us again.”  He paused.  “Not until we’re ready to start a family.” 

She turned to look at him sharply.  “Is that a proposal?” 

A slow smile spread over his face.  There was incredible warmth in his eyes.  “Not yet.  I’ve got some things… some issues I need to address…”  His smile vanished abruptly, and he looked away. 

Somehow, she knew what he was thinking.  A memory of his wife and son had passed through him, and it hurt.  She turned away, unable to bear the sight of his pain.  “I know, Adam.  Things are different now.  You’re going to need time to adjust…” 

He touched her arm.  “It’s more than that, Samantha.”  He sighed.  “I never thought I’d have this again.  There are places inside me that never healed when my family was killed.  I think… I think it’s time I finished grieving for them, so I can move on with my life.”  His fingers tightened around her arm imperceptibly.  “Do you understand?” 

“Of course,” she said as bravely as she could manage. 

But she didn’t, not completely.  Was he saying good-bye?  Right there in her bed, with the heat of her body still fresh on his skin?  Would he find once he’d finished grieving that he didn’t want her anymore? 

Something inside her wilted.  “Take all the time you need,” she said softly without looking at him. “You know where I’ll be whenever you’re ready.” 

He pulled her down onto the bed again, onto her back, and lay half across her, looking down into her eyes.  “You’re even more afraid now, aren’t you?” he whispered.  “You’re afraid of losing me, afraid I won’t come back.”  He stroked her cheek with his palm, cradling her face with his left hand.  “But you don’t have to worry about that, Samantha.  I promise.” 

She nodded, unable to believe him, unwilling to hope.  The old, familiar pattern was resurrecting itself once again.  The men she chose were always unavailable on some level or other, or else they threw themselves wholeheartedly into a relationship with her and flamed out in short order. Fate seemed to be her heart’s enemy, taking love away from her just as she was about to grab it with both hands. 

She loved him.  Of that, she was absolutely certain.  And he was slipping through her grasp. 

“I love you,” he whispered, and he kissed her, languid and sensual, building a slow fire that heated her until she was burning up inside.  He made love to her again, this time with infinite tenderness that reached into her soul until it was overflowing.  She sobbed against his throat as he whispered soft words of comfort, but there was no consolation for her, only the union of their bodies in ecstasy and sorrow.  When he finished, he stretched out on the bed beside her and held her close, drifting off to sleep in utter exhaustion. 

Samantha lay awake, unable to close her eyes, listening to his breathing and wishing she could make him stay with her, but she knew too well that she couldn’t force him and didn’t really want to have him that way.  As she had told another man once long ago, she wanted love to be a gift, not a battle to be fought and won.  And she knew she couldn’t fight a ghost for Adam Romani’s heart. 

She choked back her grief and fear and steeled herself for what lay ahead.  In the morning she would be cheerful and strong, and when they parted ways, she would not look back.  She would pass him in the hallways at the base with a smile, and no one would know how she was suffering on the inside. 

She was good at that.  There was always plenty of work to keep her busy, and with enough to do, she wouldn’t concentrate on her heart breaking.  Samantha Carter was a soldier, after all.  That had to come first. 

Closing her eyes, she pretended to sleep until it came to fetch her, taking her down into dreams of loss and loneliness. 

She was the black widow, wife to death, mistress of woe, just like the rumors on the base said, and come morning, Adam Romani would be gone from her life, a shadow of a dream never really meant to be.

 

* * *

 

  

**June 9**

Jack stood in the back of the gym, bag in hand.  This wasn’t usually a very busy time of day, which was why he chose it for his workout with Teal’c.  Daniel was supposed to be coming, but was late, and that gave Jack a perfect excuse not to get started with his warm-up. 

Instead, he just watched.  The Jaffa was already sparring with a woman dressed in a black T-shirt and black _kung fu_ pants, her long hair caught into a ponytail at the nape of her neck.  She paid no attention to anyone else working out, concentrating exclusively on her opponent.  Her movements were graceful and smooth, perfectly balanced.  It was a pleasure to watch her, especially knowing what he did about hand-to-hand combat. 

He’d seen Logan perform _Tai Chi Chuan_ , the national exercise of China, often enough in training. Most of the people he’d seen doing that looked serene, contemplative, because that was a side-effect of the practice; however, the gleam in Logan’s green eyes was anything _but_ meditative.  Her movements spoke of leashed power, of intent, that told Jack a great deal about her.  He hadn’t met many who practiced _Tai Chi_ as a martial art, but this woman knew its secrets, and that was what she was demonstrating.  Teal’c struck at her, then fell beneath the sweep of her leg, landing hard on his back.  Logan’s hand came down toward the Jaffa’s throat, stopping an inch away from death. 

Jack knew that few people besides Master Bra’tac himself could get the best of the big guy.  Her technique was impressive, but Jack was more interested in the look in her eyes.  She knew exactly what she was doing. 

_Not your typical archaeologist,_ he reminded himself.  She let Teal’c regain his feet, bowed to him and thanked him for his participation, then padded off to a gym bag out of the way and drew out something he hadn’t seen used except in movies. 

“This oughtta be interesting,” he commented to Teal’c as the Jaffa joined him.  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.  “Let’s see how many times she cracks her skull with that thing.” 

Teal’c stood at parade rest just behind him.  “DoctorLogan fights well.  I do not think she will be clumsy with her weapon; however, I have not seen anything like it before.  What is it, O’Neill?” 

“It’s called a three-section-staff.  Comes from China.” 

“The land of the great warriors. DoctorLogan and DanielJackson have told me of these people.” 

Jack noted that the wooden pieces of the staff looked worn, as if it had seen a lot of use.  Logan took up her position and bowed, as she always did to start her sets, and went into action.  The staff was difficult to use, he knew, but Logan never bobbled with it.  She looked every bit as intent and deadly with the staff as she did with her sparring, working up a sheen of sweat as she twirled and spun the extensions around her body. 

Daniel arrived and breezed past them with his usual apology for tardiness, and headed for the weights.  Teal’c fell in behind him, and Jack brought up the rear, strolling past Logan’s spot on the floor as she finished up her set.  She made eye contact, and gave him a curt nod after her bow. 

“You’re lookin’... kinda... hot, there, Logan,” he told her appreciatively.  If he weren’t already headed for a workout, he’d certainly have gone for a cold shower right about then.  He was uncertain about how to ask her out again, since he’d kept his distance after their first and only date, but now, after watching her in action and remembering Daniel’s advice, he was giving that a second thought. 

“Shower, coming up, Jack,” she told him, and flashed him a smile.  “Say, are you busy this Saturday?  I’ve got a class I’m teaching at the Y, and my regular guy broke his arm.  I need somebody to fill in for him.” 

“Oh.”  For a minute, he was hoping she’d do the asking, but since this was just a warm body she needed, he was a little disappointed. Still, he might be able to make something of it afterward. “Sure.  What time and where?” 

“I’ll send you an email,” she answered, stowing her staff back in her bag. 

“Hey, this _is_ Jack you’re talking to,” Daniel reminded her with a grin. 

“I have email?” Jack asked innocently, playing dumb. 

“Oh, yeah.  I’ll leave a map on your desk.  Saturday, 11 AM.  Wear your sweats.  Okay?” 

“I’ll be there.” 

Saturday morning, gym bag in hand, he walked into the YWCA and was directed into a large classroom with mats on the floor.  Logan was already there with her class, mostly women, but with a handful of men as well, paired up with ladies and all dressed in sweats.  He began to wonder what sort of exercise she was planning to teach. 

She flashed him a grin, mouthed a ‘thanks’ and motioned him over.  “Hey everybody, let’s get started.  I need everyone to pair up.  If you’ve brought your own man, that’s good, but otherwise, find a partner.” 

Jack frowned at her.  “Brought your own man?” 

“Yeah.  Didn’t I tell you?  This is a women’s self-defense course.  I teach it once a month here, when I’m... in town.” 

“Oh.”  Somehow, he wasn’t surprised.  “This oughtta be fun.” 

She laughed.  “Whatever floats your boat, Jack.”  She turned to her class.  “Now, first thing is, your best tool is awareness.  There are places to go and places to stay away from.  That’s kind of obvious, but the most important thing is not to look like a victim.  If you go down the sidewalk with your head down, not looking at anybody because you’re afraid, you’ll telegraph to every predator out there that you’re a target.  Look ‘em in the eye, ladies.  Show them you’re on guard and that you’ll put up a fight, and they’ll choose an easier target every time.” 

Jack studied her, saw the passion in her eyes and the way her hands moved, and understood.  This was more than just a social service she chose to provide.  It was a cause, something innately personal, prompted by experience.  Something had happened to Logan or to someone close to her, and she was intent on making sure it didn’t happen to anyone else. 

He played his part, reaching for her on command, grabbing her wrist or around her throat when she told him, and tasting her expertise as she disabled him immediately.  By the time the class was over, he felt thoroughly abused and sore in several places.  His respect for her had taken a large leap, because she was way more than just a geek.  She was a warrior underneath it all, and he could see eye to eye with her on that level. 

“Lunch,” he told her as she dismissed the class.  “My place.  I’m doing the honors.” 

She just nodded, surprise in her eyes, and went into the dressing room to change. 

He did the same, switching his sweats for some tan khakis and a brown Polo shirt that matched his eyes.  She was waiting outside in the parking lot next to her bike, wearing jeans and a green silk shirt buttoned up high.  She got on her ride and he reluctantly straddled the seat behind her. 

“There’s a helmet behind you,” she told him.  “Nobody rides with me bare-headed.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he returned, and fastened it on.  He liked being squeezed up behind her on the long seat, his arms loose around her waist.  She wasn’t slender by any stretch of the imagination but solidly built, muscular for a woman, and he thought he knew now why she kept in such good shape. 

But he was still sitting on a motorcycle, and that made him nervous. 

“I gotta be out of my mind, riding on this thing.” 

“It’s fun,” she promised him over her shoulder, “ and I’m careful. I bet you’ll like it.” 

She drove competently and parked the bike in his driveway. He led the way into the house, tossing his keys on the entry table.  When each of them had a beer in hand, he pulled a couple of steaks out of the freezer and started them thawing, checking the rest of his groceries to make sure he had the goods to entertain, while Logan prowled around his living room, looking at his stuff. 

“Is this a date?” she asked him bluntly, finishing up her beer and handing him an empty bottle.  “Or did you wanna talk about something?” 

“Both.”  He handed her a soft drink rather than a second beer.  “You teach a good class.  Said all the right things.  And you’re damn good in close quarters.” 

“That’s high praise from Special Ops Guy,” she told him with a grin.  “Thanks.” After a slight pause, she huffed a little laugh. “Sorry about busting your nose the day we met.” 

“I got over it. We’re good.” 

He busied himself washing a couple of potatoes and wrapping them in foil while the oven heated. “You wanna tell me about it?” 

“About what?”  She opened the soft drink and intentionally looked away from him, pretending nonchalance. 

“I may not be too bright about a lot of things—“ 

“Bullshit.”  She eyed him now, accusing and intent.  “You’re a _very_ smart man, Jack.  The smokescreen doesn’t work on me.  I told you that last time.” 

He nodded.  “Okay.  So we skip over that part.  But something I’m really good at is reading people.  I knew when my team and I were prisoners of Apophis which of his guards hated what he was doing.  I could see in Teal’c’s eyes that he wanted a way out, and gave it to him.  I wanna do the same with you, Logan.” 

“A way out of what?” she shot back, glancing away again.  “I’m not trapped.  I’m doing what I want to do.  Got a great life, Jack, thanks to the SGC.” 

“What happened to you, Logan?” he demanded, staring at her face, willing her to look back at him.  “Or was it someone close to you?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.”  She started to walk off, heading back for the living room. 

He caught her by the upper arm.  She reacted instantly, catching him by the thumb and wrenching his grip away, forcing him to his knees at her feet.  “Yes, you do,” he ground out. 

She let him go instantly.  “I’m sorry, Jack.  That was instinctive.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

He stood up slowly and took her shoulders gently in his grasp, his right hand still smarting.  “I know that.  But you’re scared and angry.  I can see it in your eyes.  I saw it in the way you taught that class.  And I wanna know what happened to make you like that.” 

“I fell in love with the wrong guy,” she snapped.  “Look, Jack, I’m not sure—“ 

“Do you want me?” he asked, then instantly regretted his bluntness. 

Her mouth closed.  Longing blossomed in her eyes, and she looked away.  “Why are you asking me that?  We’ve been out all of once, and that was just to save your ass from disciplinary action.  I don’t know where you’d get the idea...” 

“I read people, remember?” he reminded her softly.  “Look, I know this is hard for you.  It’s hard for me, too, but this is something I have to know, because if this relationship is going to go anywhere, we have to be up front about our baggage.” 

“So it’s me first, huh?” she shot back, easing out of his grasp.  Her eyes were accusing, wary. 

“Not if that’s how you want it to be,” he returned, and went outside to light the grill.  He noticed that she followed him out, slowly meandering in his wake.  “What do you want to know about me?” 

“You’re a closed book with no dust jacket,” she told him.  “I don’t have a clue where to begin.  You tell me.” 

He nodded.  “I was married once, for about fifteen years.  One son, Charlie, who died when he was ten.” 

Logan didn’t say she was sorry.  She didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him.  She just moved up beside the grill and waited. 

“He killed himself accidentally... with my... my personal gun.” 

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, leaning against the grill, waiting for the grief to let go of him. 

As it eased, sliding back into the dark place in his soul where he kept it, he resumed setting up for the cookout.  “I never got over it.  My marriage died because I couldn’t talk about... what happened.  I’m not sure I can now.” 

She nodded, her gaze still on the ground, and sighed when he didn’t continue.  “I was nineteen.  He was a married professor – you know that story.  His wife didn’t understand him; he was going to get a divorce; all the usual crap a naive girl would swallow.  By the time I found out the truth, I was pregnant with my son, Vincent.  I told him it was over, that I didn’t want anything from him – no child support or recognition, nothing.  I had screwed up and knew it, but I thought I owed him the knowledge that I was having his baby.  He didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” 

“He hurt you,” Jack guessed.  He could see her face in his peripheral vision, the haunted, far-away look as she remembered.  She was staring at the ground, re-living everything.  And she was trembling. 

“He kept me in his basement for three months, till I escaped.”  Her eyes closed.  “He caught me, and told me that he couldn’t let me live without him.” 

Her hands went to her blouse, touching the top button, and then dropping down to her sides.  “He tried to kill me, Jack.  Damn near succeeded, too. I’ve got scars...” 

She picked up her soda from the picnic table and moved away, strolling aimlessly across his back yard.  “They’re not pretty. You might... you might not want me when you see ‘em.” 

Jack’s stomach clenched.  He’d seen enough shell-shocked soldiers to know that Logan had fought for her life and nearly lost.  She was brave and strong, and she was attracted to him, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get past her defenses. 

At least, not until he knew the whole story. 

“I got scars, too you know.”  He waited till she risked a glance at him.  “Wanna see?”  He reached for his belt, thinking of the lunar landscape of his left leg. 

“Hey, slow down there!” she shot back, and turned her head away.  “Second date, Jack.  I’m not ready to see you naked yet.” 

“I was gonna show you my _leg,”_ he told her dryly.  “Remember back a couple months ago?  My lengthy recovery?” 

Logan laughed a little, a nervous edge to it.  “Yeah, I know.  And it’s not that I haven’t dreamed about seeing Jack O’Neill in the buff, I just...” 

He grinned from ear to ear. She gave him so much good material for jokes, and he loved it. 

“Really?  You dream about me _naked_?” 

He reached for her, pulling her playfully into his arms.  “So, what’s the ‘S’ really stand for, Logan?  If you’re gonna be my squeeze, I have to know your name.” 

She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. 

He felt her knees give and her body relax against him, and held her so she wouldn’t fall down. When he let her come up for air, he was ready to go straight for the bedroom.  He reminded himself of those scars she mentioned, and realized he didn’t care what the landscape looked like. He wanted _her_ , scars and all, but for this gal, he’d have to be patient. 

She had trauma to overcome, and he wanted to help with that. 

She buried her face against his shirt, her arms around his waist.  “Oh, Jack.  It’s so hard for me to trust people.  But I do trust you.” 

“I’ll wait,” he promised, smoothing his hands over her back and shoulders.  “Take all the time you need.” 

For a long time, she just stood there in his embrace.  “My name is Seneca.” 

“That’s a beautiful name.  Native American, right?” 

“Just like my mom was.  Daddy was an Irishman.”  She sighed.  “Jack, there’s a reason I don’t use my name on any documents or casual conversation.  I figure there are a lot of S. Logans out there, but probably only one Seneca.” 

“And this guy, the one who hurt you...  He’s still out there, isn’t he?” 

“He did a little time for the crime, but yeah.  They let him out, and I’m always afraid he’s still looking for me.  And for my son.” 

“So you moved around a lot to keep him safe, and he uses a different name.” 

“Like I said, you’re a smart man, Jack.  That’s one of the things I...“ 

“Admire about me,” he finished for her.  Apparently, she held onto her feelings as tightly as he did with his.  “And I’m just crazy about how you use your three-piece-staff.  Very sexy.” 

She pulled back from his embrace and looked up at him suspiciously.  “So... when you said I was looking hot the other day...” 

“I wasn’t talkin’ about being sweaty.”  He grinned, and kissed her again.  She went limp against him again, which seriously turned him on. 

“Look, you gotta stop that, or I’ll be in your pants in no time,” he teased. 

“As long as it’s dark, I think I could live with that.” 

He sucked in a breath, grinning madly. 

“Oh, Logan.  You are _so_ gonna be worth the wait.” 

He set her away from him and turned back to the grill. 

“But I’m not gonna rush this between us.  I want you to really trust me, and that’s gotta be earned.”  He held up his right hand, still echoing with pain.  “Because when I reach for you, I don’t want your first instinct to be self protection.  I want you to feel me coming and let me in because you _want_ me there.  That’s gonna take time.” 

Her expression was unreadable, but her head was cocked and she was studying him.  “I don’t think it’s gonna take you long to get there, O’Neill.”  She swallowed hard and eyed him directly. “You know you could have me right now, don’t you?” 

Jack understood that, all right.  “And I also know that you’d dodge me afterward, because you’re not ready yet.” 

She wasn’t ready to tear down the walls around her heart yet, and when he took her to his bed, he wanted to be sure there would be absolutely nothing between them, except what ought to be there. 

This would be long-term, if he had his way. 

He finished lighting the fire and took her back into the house, changing the subject to hockey while he fetched another beer for himself.  Hours later, she drove him back to the Y for his truck and left him with a kiss goodbye that made his lips burn.  He drove in to the base and rummaged through the personnel files, scanned through Logan’s records for pertinent details, then headed for Carter’s house. 

She was grinning when she opened the door.  “Hey, Colonel,” she greeted him brightly.  “What’s up?” 

As she stepped aside, he entered the house.  “I need help with somethin’,” he admitted. 

“Sure.  Anything, sir,” she returned, showing him into her living room. 

“Jack.  You can call me Jack, when we’re out of uniform and on our own time.” 

Sam nodded.  “I know.”  Her voice was gentle, warm.  Almost intimate.  “What did you need?” 

He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze.  “Just an inquiry.  It’s personal stuff, off the record.  You’re on the Internet, right?” 

“Oh, yeah.  Sure.  What do you want me to look up?”  She led the way into her home office and booted up the computer while he explained. 

“I’m looking for a roster of male professors from Trinity College during the years 1974 to 1980.” 

“That’s easy enough.”  She logged onto her ISP, connected to a search engine and plugged in the required data.  “Who are we looking for?” 

“That’s what I want to know,” he assured her, and leaned over the back of her chair to look at the screen. 

“There must be thirty names here.  Can we narrow the search further, or is this what you need?” 

“Can you cross reference this list with criminal records?  I’m looking for a guy on that list who committed a violent crime during that era and went to prison.” 

“Ooooh, fun stuff!” Carter cooed.  “This’ll take a few minutes.”  She tapped on the keyboard, revising the search parameters, and sat back to wait for the results to scroll up.  “What’s this about?” 

Jack took a seat on the edge of the desk.  “Like I said, it’s personal.  And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention to _anybody_ that we did this.  Okay?” 

“Sure thing, Colonel.”  She smiled up at him.  “I know, I know.  Old habits, you know?” 

“Yeah.  That’s what this is about.”  His eyes flicked to the screen as it changed. 

Sam turned to examine the results.  “We’ve got three news articles on three different guys.  Just click on the ‘X’ in the corner if it’s not the right one.”  She got up and let him have a seat and control of the mouse.  “Any of them the right guy?” 

Jack scanned through the first few paragraphs of the first article and closed it.  The second one was pay dirt.  “Can you print this out for me?  You know me and computers.” 

She reached past him and printed out the article, handing it to him.  “Somebody you know?” 

He guessed his face must have gone grim.  “Can we find a current photo of this Trent Wyckland guy?” 

Sam resumed her seat at the computer and searched through the university database, but there was nothing there.  She tried a couple of other avenues, but to no avail.  Glancing up at him with mischief in her eyes, she added, “I could crack the DMV database, if you want.  But it might take a little while… and it’s illegal.” 

Jack grinned at her and kissed the top of her head.  “That’s my girl,” he said proudly.  “But no, don’t go that far.  I’ve got other people I can get into trouble.”  He waved the paper at her.  “This should do for now.  I’ve got a name, at least.   That’s more than I had when I got here.” 

Sam glanced at the screen.  She leaned toward it, her attention caught by something she read.  “Oh, Jeez.  This was bad.”  Her eyes were concerned when she looked back at him.  “What’s this about, Jack?  You wouldn’t be looking into something this far back unless it was about someone you know.  Someone you care—“ 

She gasped as understanding dawned in her expression.  “Logan?” 

He looked at the paper in his hand.  “Let’s just keep this between us.  Okay, Carter?” 

She nodded, her expression grim.  “Yeah.  Let me know if you want backup.” 

Cocking his head, Jack looked down at her.  “Am I that predictable?” 

“Well…”  She shrugged and grinned hopelessly at him. 

“And don’t treat Logan any differently,” he advised.  “She’ll know we’ve been snooping if you do.  Gotta go.” 

“It’s okay.  She already told me.  Just not all the specifics.” 

She rose from her chair, and he gave her another squeeze.  “See you later, Carter.  And thanks.”  He waved the paper at her and headed for the front door. 

He stopped at the curb to look back for a final wave and saw her looking thoughtful on the doorstep. 

Jack shook his head and smiled to himself, glad that his team was so devoted to each other… and to their friends. 

It took only a couple of phone calls to get the address he wanted.  With a chill of trepidation, he realized that Wyckland lived not far away in Denver, and wondered if that was by accident or by design.  Logan had only been working for the SGC for a few years, and though she was officially listed as a civilian advisor just like Daniel, she was on the government books and traceable for someone with the right skills, plenty of money or connections. 

At any rate, Denver was way too close for comfort, in Jack’s opinion.  Wyckland worked for some big corporation as an economics expert, having given up his teaching career after getting out of prison and eventually finding work in the private sector.  The guy had done all right for himself, and had a fat bank account. 

Jack studied the picture his connection in the FBI had gotten for him, noting that the guy resembled the photo Jack had seen of Logan’s son, Vincent.  The likeness was strongest in the shape of the face and around the mouth, but Vincent had his mother’s gentle eyes. 

Wyckland’s eyes were cold, gray and soulless. 

Jack knew he must have looked a great deal different when he was younger, or else Logan had been innocent enough not to see the warning signs. 

She was nineteen, she had said.  Still pretty much an innocent child, in Jack’s book.  And part of her was still that frightened child, running from the devil she knew too well. 

The calls he made yielded a wealth of information, including copies of police reports and trial transcripts. 

What he read made him ill.  It made him furious.  It made him want to kill the guy with his bare hands. 

He put the reports away in his personal files, intending to take them home and burn them later. 

Jack knew he should talk to Romani about all of it, but something made him shy away from that.  It wasn’t time yet, and there was something he needed to do. 

He just wasn’t sure what it was.

 

* * *

 

 **June 10**

Daniel surveyed his apartment, regarding all the relics he’d acquired in his travels. The place was like a museum, filled with delicate items and old books. He got down on his hands and knees and started to crawl, looking at everything from closer to the floor. He had plenty of time to child-proof the place, but somehow it just didn’t feel right as a place to raise a baby. It was the residence of a seasoned bachelor. It reminded him of his grandfather’s place, and what he wanted was a _home_. 

He went to the balcony and looked out at the city through the window.  Apartments were spread out among businesses, but farther back in the trees were residential neighborhoods. Jack lived in one of them, Sam in another. 

He wondered if he should look into buying a house, but that wasn’t a decision he could make alone. 

He’d have to wait for Shannon to agree to live with him before he got serious about that.  So for the moment, he needed to plan for what he had. 

Starting at floor level, he began to pull all the breakables into one area of the floor, intending to go to a mover’s for some boxes later, and acquire a storage room where he could put all that stuff until later. 

He didn’t need any of it anyway.  He just liked having it around him, reminders of the ancient past he so loved. 

The doorbell rang, and he went to answer it, nearly tripping over the cat who had decided to run him a race to the door and darted right between his feet. 

“Zoe, you’ve got to learn not to do that,” he admonished, picking the cat up in his arms. 

He pulled open the door, and smiled at his unexpected guest. 

“Hi. Come in.”  He stepped aside to let Shannon enter, pleasantly surprised that she had come to see him.  For most of the last week, she’d been avoiding him on Siraket, except when he’d cornered her to talk business. 

She rounded the bookcases into the living room, and stopped to stare at the pile of stuff in the floor.  “Rearranging your furniture?” she asked. 

“No.  Just getting ready to put some stuff into storage.  I’m glad you came over.”  He went to kiss her, but she dodged away. 

“Look, I just came to talk.  Okay?” 

He couldn’t help being disappointed.  Glancing down at her flat belly, he smiled. 

“Okay.  Can I get you something to drink?” 

He met her eyes again, and saw that she was frowning. 

Daniel set the cat down, and Zoe promptly began to rub herself against Shannon’s ankles.  “She likes you.” 

“Animals love me,” she returned.  She squatted down to pet the cat. 

“Me, too.  Drink?” 

She shook her head.  “No.  Just talk.”  She went into the living room and sat down on the sofa. 

He did the same, sitting on the other end of the couch and facing her, one arm propped on the back cushions.  He waited, letting her start. 

“What are we going to say in our reports about how we opened that door?” 

“Nobody has to know _exactly_ how we did it.  We can just say that the sensors accepted our ability to love, along with the other requirements, and opened when we were all assembled on the doorway grid.” 

“What about the others?  What are they going to say?” 

“Just what I told them to say.  Like I said, nobody has to know but us.” 

She sighed with relief and started to get up. 

“Wait.”  He reached for her, drawing back when she shrank away from his touch.  “Shannon, are you mad at me?  What did I do?” 

She shook her head.  “I can’t explain it, Daniel.  I’m just… I’m just hurt.  I’ll get over it.” 

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

 He wanted to hold her so badly, just touch her and reassure her that he cared, but he knew she wouldn’t let him.  He gripped the back of the sofa instead. 

“Shannon, we have to discuss where we’re going to live.”  He glanced around the room.  “This isn’t the right place.  Neither is your apartment.  Not for a real home.” 

She bolted off the sofa.  He caught her, held her against him.  She struggled a little, but gave up when he didn’t let go. 

“I know this is hard for you.  I thought you were okay with the idea when you agreed to be with me without protection.” 

He kissed her forehead since she wouldn’t look up at him.  He ached inside, wanting things to be different between them.  “I don’t understand what’s going on with you, Shannon.  Please, help me understand.” 

Sighing, she rested her cheek against his shirt and slipped her arms around him.  “I can’t.  Not yet.  I’m hoping you’re wrong, is all.  I just can’t—“  She hitched a sob, and her arms tightened around him. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he promised, holding her harder.  “We’ll do this together, just like I promised.  No matter how it turns out.” 

He lifted her chin and kissed her, tasting the salt of tears as she wept.  He felt the strangest sense of rightness, of glorious peace, as he thought of the child inside her.  He wanted that more than anything else in the world, in that moment. 

Passion flared in him, and as his kisses became more demanding, her mouth was compliant and warm. 

He lifted her in his arms and carried her into his bedroom, taking his time convincing her that everything would be all right between them.

 

* * *

 

 **June 23**

Daniel lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling.  “Are you done yet?” he asked impatiently. 

Shannon strolled out of his bathroom, wearing nothing but his pajama shirt.  Her hair was mussed from sleep and having his hands in it.  Her lips were swollen from his kisses, and her fair skin had patches of pink where his beard stubble had abraded her slightly.  He looked her up and down, and smiled gently to himself.  She was beautiful. 

And she was scared. 

She paced the floor, checking her watch for the time. 

“Hey,” he called.  “Come here.  Let me take your mind off it.” 

With a shake of her auburn head, she continued pacing. 

“We already know the answer,” he advised, getting out of bed and searching the floor for his pajama pants.  He stepped into them, and went to embrace her.  “You’ve known for weeks now.  You should be comfortable with the idea by now.” 

“You seem to be at peace with it,” she grumbled.  “Pardon me if I’m not.”  She glanced at the bed.  “I can’t believe you talked me over here for this. You seem to talk me into whatever you bloody well want.” 

He slid his hands around her waist and downward to cup her buttocks and pull her close against him.  He grinned at her.  “I’m glad you came.  I like to hear you scream.” 

High color lit her face immediately.  “It seems all of the SGC now enjoys teasing me about that, Danny.  They see me coming down the hall, and I hear ‘first chevron encoded’ and then they chuckle.  It’s all a big joke.” 

“Not to me,” he assured her, stroking her cheek with his fingertips.  He bent down to kiss her, but she pulled away.  “They’re just jealous.” 

He followed her into the bathroom and peered at the test stick over her shoulder, standing close behind her. 

“We’re gonna have a baby,” he said gently.  “Told ya.”  His arms slid around her waist, his hands settling on her belly possessively.  “Now do you want to go with me to get that license?” 

“No.  I don’t.”  She pulled his hands away and strode out of the bathroom.  Moments later, she was dressing, getting ready to leave. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Home.  I’ll see you at work.” 

That threw him for a loop. “Wait a minute.” 

She faced him, her expression unreadable. 

“Are you going to report it to Doctor Frasier?”  He knew Shannon was Catholic and reasonably firm in her religious beliefs, so she wouldn’t take any drastic actions, but he didn’t understand this behavior.  He was worried. 

“When I have to, but not before then.”  She eased away from him, grabbed her keys and wallet, and headed for the door.  “Nobody needs to know, Danny.  Not until it’s obvious.” 

“Don’t you want to be a mother?”  He hadn’t intended to ask that, but it slipped out. 

“Do you want to be a father?” she shot back irritably. 

“Yes.” 

She looked genuinely surprised. 

“I knew what I was doing in the Storehouse, Shannon.  We talked about it.  We both agreed it had to be done.” 

Anger clouded her face.  “That’s just it.  _It had to be done._   Only it didn’t, did it?  We got back through the portal by holding hands and dancing.  We didn’t have to do _any_ of it!  Did we?” 

“We couldn’t have known that,” he argued helplessly.  “The pictogram indicated—“ 

“I know what the picture showed, but it was the illustration of an idea.  The Ancients wanted to know those who came through the doorway to their world would be capable of love.  _Friendship_ is love.  We could have done with that.  Instead, we made a baby.  For no reason, Daniel.  We made a baby for _no reason!_  Forgive me if I have a little bit of a problem with that.” 

She slammed the door after her. 

He couldn’t blame her for being angry.  He’d been puzzling about the events on Siraket for weeks now, trying to figure out exactly what had achieved their goal.  The answer lay with Shannon, but she wasn’t talking about it, wouldn’t answer his questions.  _She_ had been the one to ignite the lights.  Whatever had happened to turn the key, it had all been inside _her_. 

Heading for the kitchen, he made coffee and pondered some more.  He closed his eyes, the fragrance of the steaming brew making his mouth water, but it was too hot to drink.  He carried the cup into the bathroom and disrobed, preparing to get into the shower and start getting ready for work. 

The test stick caught his eye, and he picked it up, looking at it more closely. 

“I’m going to be a father,” he murmured to the cat who came up to rub against his ankles.  His head felt tingly and fuzzy.  The thought was intoxicating, terrifying, calming.  He _was_ at peace with the idea, had been since it first popped into his head in the Storehouse of the Ancients. 

A flash of memory grazed his mind, of Shannon riding him, her head thrown back, cries of unbridled ecstasy issuing from her mouth.  Light and color poured from her body, surrounded her in a halo.  She was on fire, illuminated with love… 

_And suddenly he knew._

He smiled, and gazed down at the test result.  It was all so simple, really.  He wondered why he hadn’t understood sooner. 

Shannon was in love, all right.  _With him._ He’d expected her to be fantasizing about David, but when he had asked her who was in her heart, she’d avoided the question.  She couldn’t answer, because she couldn’t tell him that _he_ was the one, that she was loving _him_ with such honesty and purity that she had lit up the room. 

Somewhere along the way, she had fallen for him and never let him know.  She believed his heart was so wrapped up in his memories of Shau’ri that there hadn’t been room for anyone else. 

For a long time, he’d thought the same thing… until Reyenne came into his life and touched him.  He’d refused to admit to his feelings for her until it was too late. 

With Shannon, it had all happened so gradually that he hadn’t even been aware of it. 

Until now. 

Only he couldn’t just walk up to her and say the words, because she wouldn’t believe them now.  She’d think he was just trying to make her feel better about carrying his child, trying to get her into a loveless marriage for the sake of the baby, but that wasn’t it at all. 

He didn’t have a clue how to express his feelings where she’d buy it. 

Romance was not his specialty, except as a subject of academic study. 

_“It’s plain as the nose on your face, but you can’t see it,”_ Sam had told him back on Siraket. 

He shook his head in wonder at his own obtuseness.  Looking in the mirror, he eyed his reflection disdainfully.  “And you’re supposed to be a genius.” 

He set the stick down on the counter, turned on the water and put his prodigious intelligence to the problem before him. 

There _had_ to be a way to convince Shannon that he loved her.  All he had to do was find it.  And when she believed, he would say the words. 

But not until then. 

He dressed and drove to the base, but instead of going to his office, he went straight to Jack’s and sat down in the guest chair after shutting the door on the two of them.  Glancing around the tiny room, he noticed that it was orderly and Spartan, no photos or other personal mementos in sight, just the items he’d need to carry out his job. 

Daniel knew where his collection of personal items were – still housed in a cigar box in the bottom of the Colonel’s locker, out of sight but not out of mind. 

“What’s on your mind, Daniel?” Jack asked, hunched over the computer keyboard, pecking out the letters with one finger on each hand.  He didn’t look up from his report. 

“It’s personal.  Got a minute?” 

Jack turned and leaned his elbows on the desktop.  “Sure, little bro.  What’s up?” 

Daniel had thought he’d just say it, but the words stuck in his throat as he stared into those chocolate brown eyes. 

“Still here,” Jack prompted after a couple of minutes of silence. 

Looking down at his hands, Daniel saw that they were shaking. 

“Shannon’s pregnant.” 

After several seconds of silence, he dared to look up. 

“How far along?” _Peck. Peck. Peck._

Daniel cleared his throat. 

His brows twitched together, and he examined his fingernails closely. “Um, we did it opening the doorway on Siraket.”

He expected to hear a ‘for cryin’ out loud’ and a minor display of frustration, but there was only more silence. 

“When’s the wedding?” 

“She said no.” 

“No, what?  No wedding?” 

Daniel nodded, pursing his lips.  “She doesn’t think I love her.” 

Finally, Jack's eyes rolled up to meet his.

“Do you?” 

“Yes.  It just took me a long time to figure that out.  I must be supremely dense when it comes to this stuff.” 

“You’re not the only one.  So, what now?” 

“I’d like you to be best man, when the time comes.  And godfather.  You’re Catholic, and so is Shannon.  I figured that’d be a good thing.” 

Jack’s face was set, serious.  Then a smile started in his eyes and spread to his mouth.  “I’d be honored, Daniel.  Thank you.” 

“So, do you have any ideas where I go from here?” 

“Dating her would be a good start.  There oughtta be some kind of courtship.” _Peck._

“Good idea.”  He got up and stood beside the chair, shifting his weight from foot to foot for a moment as he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.  “Um, don’t tell anybody about this, okay?  She asked me to keep it between us, but I _had_ to tell you.  For a lot of reasons.” 

“Nobody hears it from me, I swear,” Jack promised solemnly, crossing his fingers over his chest.  “Want me to take you off the roster for a while?” 

_Peck. Peck._

“No.  We’ve got to behave like normal, or people will ask questions.  I’m following her lead.  Or trying to, anyway.” 

“Let me know how it goes.” 

Daniel nodded and left the office to a flurry of keystrokes, heading for the gym for a good, hard workout before getting started on his day, wondering how he was going to manage changing a woman’s mind without her help.

 

* * *

 

**Independence Day Celebration**

**Seven Falls, Colorado Springs**

Jack wove his way through the crowd, his ball cap pulled down firmly on his head. Logan had instructed him to meet her there at the appointed time, even though he argued against it. He had wanted them to go together, but she insisted there were errands to be run and it would be more convenient for them to hook up later. 

He knew where she was going, because she’d babbled it out in their discussion, so he made it a point to follow her.

Logan was observant, keeping her head up and eyes open, always on the lookout for predators, and he was hard pressed to stay out of her line of sight while she went on her mission.

Still, he had a feeling that she needed watching over, and being in the middle of a crowd like that was a perfect setup for danger. 

Eyes scanning the crowd all around her, he kept in her wake and avoided looking directly at her. It was almost time for her to go to their meeting place to wait for him, and he was starting to feel better, that his worry had been for nothing.

He spied a blonde woman in the crowd that he recognized – Hernandez’s girlfriend, if he remembered right – and made it a point not to let her see him.  He turned away, but just as he did, he felt more than saw the man standing just inside a shop doorway, his gaze focused and intent... on Logan, moving through the crowd. 

Trent Wyckland stepped into the throng and followed her at a discreet distance like a hound on a scent trail. 

Jack could feel the energy radiating off the guy _.  Hatred.  Obsession.  Desire._

It was a dangerous combination, and from the way Wyckland moved, Jack knew the guy wasn’t surprised to see her there.  He was stalking her.  And even though she was wary, looking around her – every direction but backward – she never saw him. 

Logan stopped at the landmark and glanced at her watch. 

“Keep walking,” Jack whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear him.  He willed her to go, to keep moving so she’d be safe, but will alone couldn’t help her.  Jack hurried toward her, jostling people out of his way.  When he was close enough to be heard, he called out to her. “Doc!  Wait up!” 

Instantly, Wyckland disappeared into the crowd. 

Jack was sweating by the time he reached her, and swept her up in a hug.  “Hey, there, Beautiful,” he said warmly. 

She frowned at him, nervously glancing about her.  “What did you do that for?” she demanded. Then she shook her head.  “Sorry, Jack.  I’m just being paranoid.” 

“A little paranoia is a good thing,” he assured her, holding her close as she tried to wriggle out of his arms.  “Keeps you sharp.” 

“Well, I’m sharper here at home than I am when I’m... you know... out of town.”  She let him hold her, and snuggled up under his chin.  “That’s kinda sad.  Home is where we should feel most relaxed.  Safe.” 

“And you don’t feel safe, do you?”  He scanned the crowd for that face, but Wyckland was nowhere to be seen.  Still, Jack was sure the man was watching them, taking note of the rival holding the object of his madness.  He could feel it. 

“Not really.  Not unless I’m on the base.”  She peeled away from him and looked up into his face. “Or with you.” 

He should have felt touched by that trust.  Instead, he moved her to his side and guided her into the crowd.  “Let’s get outta here,” he said brusquely. 

“But what about the fireworks?” 

“I hate crowds,” he told her frankly, which was true. More than anything else, he wanted her to be where he could protect her, and in that kind of chaos, it was impossible.  “We can go to my place and watch it on TV.” 

He reached inside his jacket, his fingertips just touching the butt of his gun, tucked into the holster hidden invisibly under his left arm. 

Logan fell silent and hurried along with him to his truck.  She sat still as he drove away, keeping her eyes straight ahead.  When they were inside his house, behind locked doors, he tried to excuse himself so he could put away the gun, but she reached for his jacket and pulled it open, glancing to exactly where he had put his hand. 

She didn’t miss anything. 

“Why are you wearing that?” she asked him bluntly.  “And why were you checking it in the park?  Was somebody following you?”  Her eyes dilated.  “Or was it me?” 

She stepped away from him.  Her mouth dropped open, and she covered it with both hands.  Her eyes closed.  “Oh, God, he found me!  And you _saw_ him.” 

“I think he’s been following you for a while,” Jack admitted.  “So you’re going to be staying here with me, or on the base.  Your choice.” 

Logan looked at the floor and lowered her hands.  “I’ll go pack and release my apartment.  Let me call Hammond and see if he can get me quarters on the base.”  Her shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“Hey.”  He reached for her, made her look up at him.  “Why don’t I pack a few things, since we’re here, and we’ll stay at your place tonight?” 

She shook her head.  “I’ll never feel right there again, Jack.  Thanks for looking out for me.” 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

Her eyes were wounded as she met his gaze again.  “No.  You got nosy because you care.  That... That’s priceless.”  She sighed.  “I can make do overnight with just a toothbrush.  Is there a drugstore near here?” 

“I’ve got a handful of brand new cheapies in the guest bath,” he admitted.  “I never know when some alien’s gonna drop in, you know, and need one.  So I keep extras, just in case.”  He put his arm around her shoulders and towed her into the living room.  Settling her on the sofa, he did a once-over on the house, checking locks and lights as it got dark outside.  He set the alarm system and made her a stiff drink, Jack and Coke, that he’d heard her order a couple of times. 

She drank it without protest. 

“Maybe you should cut your losses and look elsewhere for company,” she suggested.  “I’m rapidly turning into work, here, Jack.  It’s not worth the trouble.” 

“Don’t you think I should be the judge of what I think you’re worth to me?”  He sipped his coffee, intending to stay sharp and awake, just in case. 

She shook her head.  “I haven’t been with a man in thirty years or so, Jack.  I don’t have that much experience in the whole relationship arena.  I can pretty well promise you I won’t be worth the trouble.” 

“That makes you almost a virgin,” he teased, shooting a sideways glance at her.  He turned on the television and put his free arm around her shoulders, snuggling her against him.  “I think that’s pretty special.” 

Logan grinned at him.  “Only slightly used, huh?  Well, considering you’ll never see me with my clothes off—“ 

He rounded on her.  “Never?” 

“Not with the lights on.” 

“Bummer.  I was looking forward to that.” 

She looked down at her chest, always hidden by clothing.  “You don’t want to see this.  Trust me.  Nobody outside the medical profession has had a look at me in the buff for decades.” 

He set down his coffee cup and scooted forward on the sofa cushion until he almost faced her.  Without looking at her face or asking permission, he reached for the buttons on her blouse and began to unbutton them as casually as he could manage.  He half expected her to protest, to bat his hands away, but she didn’t move. 

He steeled himself to see what she had hinted at, knowing in advance that it would be significant.  He’d read the reports and knew enough about physiology to understand what that madman had done to her.  The knife wounds would be bad enough, but on top of that, her chest had been splayed wide open in the hospital during the surgery that saved her life.  That scar wouldn’t be pretty either. 

It ran in a slick pink line right between her breasts, starting just below the hollow of her throat and ending just above her navel. Fanning out from it were a dozen or so smaller white lines, radiating randomly to describe the spaces between her ribs.  In his mind’s eye he could see them fresh and bleeding, and hear her screams. 

She had survived.  For several months she had hovered between life and death, her son born by Caeserian section while she lay in a coma.  Seneca had fought her way back to consciousness and she had been fighting ever since, struggling each day with her fear, surviving the threat Wyckland posed, and protecting the child she so loved until he grew to be a man. 

Jack studied the scars, aware that she was watching him for his reaction.  And then he bent down and kissed her lightly, right on the top of the big pink line.  He touched it lightly with his fingertips, stroking all the way down. 

“You’re a fighter, Seneca,” he said softly, looking into her hopeful, hopeless eyes.  “I respect that.” 

She reached for her blouse and closed it modestly, her face coloring as she turned her gaze to the sofa cushions.  “Yeah. I know.” 

He reached up to her hair and let his fingers trail down a lock beside her face.  “I’m going to sleep with you tonight,” he told her.  “No sex, because I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.  You need to not be alone right now.  You need to feel safe, and I do that for you.  You already told me that.” 

“I don’t want you to be on watch,” she said huskily.  “I don’t want to be a project, either.  I’m not something you need to fix.” 

“I know, Seneca.”  He laid his palm against her cheek.  There was such pain in her eyes.  He wanted to erase it all.  “But _I_ need to be fixed, and I believe you can help me do that.” 

Her dark brows drew together in confusion.  “Huh?” 

“You’re dealing with your demons,” he explained.  “I’ve always run away from mine.  I don’t want to run anymore.” 

Her mouth hung open for a moment, and then slowly closed. She chuckled softly, but there was an edge of bitterness in it.  “Oh, you’re _good_ , Jack.  _Really_ good.” 

He frowned.  “What do you mean?” 

“I read people, _too_ , honey.  And I know a thing or two about psychology, since that was one of my minors.  Distract me with something that means more than my own fear, and draw me in.  Great strategy.” 

Jack resumed his seat beside her, and reached over to button her shirt back up. “Is it working?” 

Logan jumped on him, arms around his neck, lips plastered against his. 

That was answer enough, and Jack worked hard to keep things from going too far, too fast.  He _was_ on watch, after all, and couldn’t afford to let her distract him completely from that mission, but after a while, he carried her to his bed, gave her a pair of sweats to sleep in, and tucked her in. When he’d made the rounds once more and changed into sweats, he slipped his pistol under his pillow and got under the covers beside her. 

It took some doing to convince her that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, assuring her that she wasn’t ready for intimacy yet, but eventually she turned over and put her back to him to try for sleep. 

“Spoon me, Jack,” she requested with a weary sigh. 

He cuddled up behind her, but his tongue would not stay still.  “Did you say, spoon me... or fork me?” 

Her laughter did things to him inside, touching places he had thought were long cold and warming them up. He wanted her, desperately, but nothing was going to move him from his decision not to touch her, not yet. He closed his eyes and slept, keeping his senses alert for movement or noise even in the depths of slumber. 

_He stood on a beach somewhere, under an azure sky. Turquoise water lapped at the white sand, stretching out for miles in every direction. There was nothing else but sand, water and sky… and Logan, lying on the warm sand, naked and beautiful, waiting for him to come and take her.  
_

_Jack looked down at himself. A gold cuff embraced his left wrist, fitted with a cobalt blue jewel. It reminded him of the Goa’uld transport ring controls, but looked different somehow. He touched it and realized it was a shield generator, one of those personal protection devices the false gods used to repel weapons, only there was no one shooting at him there. He tried to turn it off, but it held him prisoner, separating him from the world outside._

_It was cold in there, and the warmth of the landscape beckoned.  
_

_“Touch me, Jack,” Logan whispered. She writhed on the sand, inviting him with every motion, ready for him to take her.  
_

_Suddenly, another figure appeared. It looked just like him, except that it was dressed in BDUs. He spied Logan on the sand, and the doppleganger did, too. He imagined himself kneeling beside her, running his hands over her body, and the Other one made the motions, exactly as he pictured them. Whatever he wanted to do, the Other Jack did, but he couldn’t feel any of it.  
_

_He watched in helpless despair as the puppet stretched out on top of her, still fully clothed, except for the weapon he’d taken from his trousers. She surrendered to the false Jack, but as he thrust silently into her, she began to weep. She started to fight him, pushing him off her and rising to her feet._

_Logan came toward him, ignoring the puppet now standing behind her, waiting for orders.  
_

_“Let me in, Jack,” she breathed, her eyes haunted. “Or meet me out here, where it’s warm.”  
_

_He grasped the cuff and fiddled with it, pushing every button he could find, trying to get it to shut off. “I can’t,” he told her, an edge of desperation in his voice. “I don’t know how anymore.”  
_

_“All you have to do is want it,” she whispered. “The walls will come down when you’re ready. If you want me enough, you can find the way. I’ll be waiting.”  
_

_She turned around and started to walk away.  
_

_He couldn’t bear that and reached for her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. One hand cupped her breast, but he couldn’t feel it. The barrier between them was cold and smooth, thin as paper and invisible except for the tiny skittering of miniature lightning that moved with contact. Her back pressed against his chest, and she moaned with his intimate caress. He stroked his other hand over her belly, reaching downward as she arched toward the glide of his fingers.  
_

_She whimpered.  “Touch me, Jack.  I need you inside me.”  
_

_His heart banged against his ribs.  It was just a dream, just imagination.  There was no beach, no force shield, no puppet standing by to do his bidding.  His fingers were on fire as they slid into her. He was so hard his cock hurt, but he couldn’t…_

_She was so wet, so hot inside…_

He woke instantly, her soft moan cutting into his dream. 

“Ah, Jeez,” he whispered, realizing where his hand was.  For a moment he lay utterly still, listening to Logan breathe.  She was sleeping, her back pressed against his chest. She didn’t know what he was doing, what he’d been doing in his sleep. 

Carefully, slowly, he withdrew his fingers from her, pulling his hand out of her pants and rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.  His balls were starting to ache, but he wasn’t going to relieve himself in the bed with her.  He massaged his scrotum gently, willing his erection away. 

She would have let him make love to her, he knew.  He could wake her right then and be inside her in a heartbeat, but it wouldn’t be what she wanted, what she needed from him.  It would be like the puppet on the beach, going through the motions, but lacking the emotional connection she so wanted.  He needed to find the way out of the prison he’d built up around himself, but he didn’t know how to go about tearing down walls he couldn’t see or feel.  He was trapped, and there was no way out. 

He stayed awake most of the night, listening to her breathe, trying to ignore her dreams.  He kept some space between them so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch again, but those few inches felt like a canyon separating their bodies.  She was too far away, and he couldn’t reach her. 

Maybe it was best that he just let her go.  He could watch over her without getting involved.  And she’d be better off without someone she couldn’t touch tempting her with something she could never have. 

Jack O’Neill sighed and closed his eyes.  He was used to the cold in his lonely prison.  Wanting more would only bring him more pain, and he’d had plenty of that already in his life. 

Logan would just have to understand.  She was smart, and it wouldn’t take her long to figure out he’d made his decision.  She wouldn’t like it, but she didn’t work for him, so that was okay.  

Morning found him on his back, his left hand splayed across his chest.  He rubbed his face and his eyes opened as the scent of Logan on his fingers made him remember what he’d done in his sleep.  He turned to face the woman beside him on the next pillow. 

She was looking right at him, those grass-green eyes reading him like a novel.  “Don’t shut me out, Jack,” she ordered softly.  “I won’t go quietly.” 

He frowned at her and pretended innocence.  “What the hell are you talking about, Logan?” 

“I don’t think I was dreaming _everything_ that happened last night,” she whispered. 

“I was asleep,” he protested.  “I stopped as soon as I woke up.  I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not.”  She propped up on one elbow and frowned at him.  “You wanted me.  You still do, but for some reason, you think you need to handle me with kid gloves.  I won’t _break_ , Jack.  I’m a tough old bird.” 

Her hand lay lightly on his chest, then smoothed down his belly to his morning erection, just starting to stir. 

“Unh,” he groaned, and reached for her hand as he sat up.  “That’s _my_ stuff, if you don’t mind.” 

He got up and trudged grumpily into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. 

Images flashed in his thoughts – _racing back to the bedroom and tackling her before she could leave the bed, holding her down and kissing her senseless, her legs spreading for him as he pulled her beneath him and shoved –_

His hand trembled as he reached for the shower faucet, turning on the hot water tap.  He clenched his teeth together to make himself stay put, to follow his morning routine and shut her out. 

And when he left the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, she was gone. 

He searched the house for her, already certain she’d called a cab and left as soon as he went into the bathroom. 

He’d lost her, and the hunger gnawed at his belly all morning.  When he arrived on base and checked the signature log to see if she’d signed in ahead of him, her name was nowhere in the book.  He asked the corpsman to phone him as soon as she arrived, but as mid-morning came and went without a sign of her, he began to worry. 

Fifteen minutes later, she edged past him in the corridor with a box in her hands, flashing him an apologetic smile.  “I’ve just about got everything done,” she told him.  “I’m moving into one of the lovely bleak rooms down below.  Just as a precaution.  Hammond thought it was a good idea, considering.” 

He let her go on with the move, relieved to see her safe and well, and headed up to the General’s office to find out exactly what she had told him about her need for base housing.  He was sure it wouldn’t be the whole story, but at least she’d be okay there.  He wouldn’t have to worry about her any more.

 

* * *

 

#####  July 8 

Daniel watched Shannon sleeping, remembering how hard it had been to get her back in his bed.  For weeks now she had been all but avoiding him, cutting off every effort to build some kind of relationship between them. He managed to succeed only when they had a valid, work-related reason to study together, and then he often managed to get her into bed at some point afterward.  All he had to do was get close enough to touch her, and she was his. 

The previous night had been no exception.  He cooked while she read to him out of old texts and did the research, after which they would discuss the latest findings. 

Daniel was heavily into discovering everything he could about the Mandanu – a minor god among the Babylonian and Akkadian mythology -- and was finding out that nearly every culture they’d visited had a similar figure in their mythology at some point.  

Daniel was intrigued by the “god of justice”, and was eager to meet this legendary personage, wondering what sort of “deity” the Mandanu would be.

Was he a concept or a Goa’uld masquerading in the role? 

They had debated over the ideas while they ate, but afterward he had tried to change subjects and talk about the baby.

Shannon practically ran for the front door.  As soon as he caught her, he spent a few minutes calming her down, and after that passion had taken over for both of them.  Making love to her now was spectacular.  He missed the light show from Siraket, but watching her and hearing the wonderful, sensual noises she made, knowing that his baby was growing inside her, made him absolutely awestruck.  He could think of little else now, imagining Shannon with her belly fully rounded as she approached term, holding the child in his arms, caring for it and watching it grow and change. 

It was a bright, shining light in his heart, the perfect antidote for the darkness that dwelt inside him. 

He rarely thought about Anubis now, though he could feel the constant presence of the other mind lurking just below his consciousness.  Only when he was away from this woman, when he was too wrapped up in work, did those memories struggle for recognition. 

He reached out to touch her, his heart so full it hurt.  Gently, he moved a single strand of hair away from her lips, replacing it in the auburn lock curling under her chin.  He smiled. 

Her eyes opened. 

“Happy Birthday to me,” he murmured. 

She lifted her hand to touch his face, but never reached him.  Her eyes went wide.  She sat up and bolted off the bed, dashing naked across the bedroom, heading straight for the bathroom. 

Daniel got up, found his pajama pants and slipped them on, making his way to the bathroom as he listened to Shannon heave over the toilet.  He fetched a washcloth from the linen closet, wet it with cold water and wrung it out over the sink.  Then he knelt on the floor beside her, gathered her long hair into a bunch at the nape of her neck with his left hand, and carefully washed her face with the other. 

“Oh, God,” she moaned, sitting back on her haunches.  There were tears streaming down her face, and she took the washcloth from him, wiping her cheeks with it.  “So this is morning sickness.” 

He stroked her hair, wishing he could magically make the nausea disappear. 

“I love you,” he heard himself say. 

She shot him a look that made it clear what she thought of that statement. 

“I hadn’t meant to say it just yet, Shannon,” he explained, surprised at himself for the unintended confession.  “I wanted to try to show you, to prove it to you somehow first, but it’s true.  In this moment, right now, as sick as you are, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.  You fascinate me.” 

“You’re daft, Daniel Jackson.”  Very slowly, she got to her feet, still rubbing the damp cloth over her face and neck. 

He took her hand and led her to the bed, picked up his robe and put it on her shoulders.  Then he guided her down the hall, into the main rooms of the apartment.  He had waited until she was sleeping the night before to bring all the decorations in and set them up, and then hardly slept he was so excited, anticipating… something. 

He wanted her to be happy. 

He wanted her to know. 

The living room was filled with flowers.  Huge vases of all kinds of floral color were everywhere – on tables, on the floor, in front of the fireplace – and he had downloaded a selection of music from the Internet that he hoped would do the trick.  He’d researched the most romantic songs, picked out those he liked best or that said what he felt, and set them up in a queue.  He stepped away from her long enough to reactivate the sleeping computer and start the first song while Shannon stood in the middle of the room, eyes wide. 

She looked afraid, a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. 

Not at all the reaction he’d been wanting. 

“Danny, what’s all this for?” she whispered, her voice trembling. 

“Presents for my birthday,” he answered, reaching behind one of the vases on the nearest end table for a small object that he tucked into his fist. The music started and he pulled her into his arms and started slow dancing with her while she struggled to get her arms into the sleeves of the robe and tie the sash. 

“You’re a crazy man,” she told him, a note of irritation appearing in her tone.  She pushed a lock of hair back from her face.  “You don’t give someone _else_ presents for your own birthday.” 

“Shhhhhh.  Just listen.”  The first strains of an acoustic guitar sounded on the computer speakers, followed by a man’s voice.  Daniel chimed in and sang the words to _Now and Forever_ right, along with Richard Marx. He had found the lyrics to be particularly appropriate.

 

_Whenever I’m weary_

_From the battles that rage in my head_

_You make sense of madness_

_When my sanity hangs by a thread_

_I lose my way, but still you seem to understand_

_Now and forever, I will be your man_

Her arms slipped around his neck.  Her eyes were dark and liquid, filled with pain and longing.  He touched her cheek with his fingertips and continued to serenade her.

_Sometimes I just hold you_

_Too caught up in me to see_

_That I’m holding a fortune_

_That Heaven has given to me_

_I’ll try to show you each and every way I can_

_Now and forever, I will be your man_

_Now I can rest my worries and always be sure_

_That I won’t be alone anymore_

_If I’d only known you were there all the time_

_All this time_

_Until the day the ocean doesn’t touch the sand_

_Now and forever, I will be your man_

_Now and forever, I will be your man_

 

The next song in the queue started at the same time Shannon began to sob. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” Daniel urged her, his brows twitching together in distress. This was _not_ the outcome he'd intended, and he was at a loss what to do next.  “I wanted to make you happy.” 

“It’s okay,” she sniffed.  “I just never expected this sort of thing from you.  You’re not a romantic man.” 

“Yeah, actually, I think I am, Shannon.  I just never found the right inspiration before.”  He stared into her wondering eyes, her lashes clumped together with tears.

 He felt himself quivering inside as he pulled his left hand from her waist and dropped to one knee before her, hopeful yet terrified she’d reject him again. 

“Please…” he began. 

“Don’t,” she begged, tears flowing freely now.  “Oh, God, Danny, please don’t do this.  Not now.” 

“Please do me the honor of letting me be your husband, Shannon.  I need you, more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life, and I love you more than I can ever make you believe.” 

He held out a ring to her – it was small and gold, decorated with a triangular piece of faeiance -- handmade Egyptian glass – that he’d acquired on his very first dig in college, when his most important lesson had been that the hardship and tedious work were worth what he got out of it.

The ring wasn’t worth much in cash, but to him, it was priceless for what it represented. 

It was the start of his career, of his finding his way to her. 

She turned and ran, heading back for the bathroom and dropping to her knees over the toilet. 

He followed her back in and held her hair for her as she threw up, then washed her face for her.  He waited patiently until she was done, and held her as she leaned heavily into his arms and cried. 

The ring he kept on the end of his left pinkie, waiting for her answer. 

He wasn’t even sure it would fit her. 

“You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” she sniffed once the wave of nausea had passed. 

“You mean, am I going to keep asking you to marry me?” he asked.  “Of course.  You’re having my baby.  I want us to be a family by the old-fashioned standards my parents observed.” 

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” 

“You could keep saying no, but then I’d just keep asking.  I’m nothing if not doggedly persistent when faced with a challenge.” 

He grinned a little, pleased with that trait in himself for a change. 

She sighed.  Slowly, she eased out of his arms and held out her left hand.  “The smell of all those flowers isn’t helping,” she informed him, “but I know you well enough to know you weren’t lying just now.” 

He beamed as he slipped the ring onto her finger, deliriously pleased that it fit perfectly.  “I’d never lie to you, Shannon.” 

“No, but you’d certainly keep things from me.  Like that mission to Sha’r.” 

“I guess those days are gone, huh?” 

“You bet your sweet arse they are, Danny love.”  Her tone was stronger now, authoritative.  “But I’m not buying this ‘I love you’ balderdash.  You got what you wanted.  We’ll get married and play mum and dad, but the moment you find somebody who really touches your heart, you let me know.  I’ll let you out of this contract in a heartbeat.” 

“There won’t be anybody else, Shannon.  I promise you that.” 

He kissed her, right on the lips, then recoiled and reached for the bottle of mouthwash on the sink. 

“Oh, that was a bad idea.  Sorry, but it was.” 

“You’ll remember that next time.”  She grinned back at him and let him help her up.  “So now what?” 

“Now we decide how we want to do it.  A quick trip to Vegas to tie the knot, or the big church wedding with all the gang.  Which one suits you?” 

“You know I’m Catholic, Daniel.  Going that route takes a lot of time, and it’s expensive and stressful.” 

“Is it what you want?  ‘Cause if it is, I want to give it to you.” 

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Let me think about it.” 

He rinsed his mouth and handed the bottle to her.  “We’ll talk about it, then.  On to other things. How many kids do you want?  ‘Cause knowing you’re Catholic, I’m wondering exactly what I’m in for, here.  I definitely want more than one – I know what that feels like – but I’m not too keen on having a litter, either.” 

She chuckled, then put her hand to her stomach.  “Oh.  Laughing.  Bad idea.”  Shannon rinsed her mouth and headed for the shower.  “I’m still not convinced this is going to work, love.  One to start with.  Then we’ll see.” 

“Guess I better hope for twins,” he quipped, and stepped out of his pajamas to join her in the shower, pointedly ignoring her glare. 

When they were dressed, he walked her down to her car, looking at his ring on her finger.  “So, do you move in with me?  Do I move in with you, or do we go house-hunting?  I favor number three.  A new start for both of us.  Kids need a yard to play in.” 

She shook her head, half smiling.  “I’m not crossing your threshold again till we’re official,” she informed him.  “So no more of these study sessions that turn into noisy sex.” 

He noted that she didn’t say the word ‘married.’ 

“I love that you scream in my ear,” he assured her with a grin.  “Though I think I may be going deaf soon.”  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.  “What do you want me to do with all the flowers?” 

“Some of the girls at the base might like them,” she suggested.  “Any other time, I probably would, too.  They were very impressive.  Just don’t do that again, okay? I don’t think I can handle the smell.” 

“Yes, dear.  I couldn’t buy you chocolate because the caffeine in it’s not good for the baby.  What kind of romantic demonstrations do you prefer?” 

She cocked her head and just studied him for a moment.  “Something genuine.  Straight from the heart.  Something uniquely Daniel Jackson.” 

He frowned.  “Oooh, that’s hard.” 

“I’m a demanding woman.  See you at work.” 

“Lunch?” 

“We’ll see.  I’ll be setting up an appointment with Doctor Frasier to get started on prenatal care.”  She sighed and looked down at the garage floor as she fumbled in her coat pocket for her keys.  “You know, I’ve got concerns.  Stuff I hadn’t talked about.  Stuff I didn’t even want to think about, but it has to be done.”

“I’d like to be there, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

She nodded.  “I’ll let you know.”  She opened her car and got in, preparing to shut the door. 

He caught it and leaned down for a quick kiss goodbye. 

“I love you,” he murmured against her lips.  “Whether you believe it or not, I know what’s in my heart.  And I’m stunned by it.” 

The look she shot him was filled with sadness and wonder. 

He stepped away as she started the car and drove off, and he strolled back to his apartment to finish getting ready for work.  Looking around the room, he smiled as he saw all the color.  He took a deep breath of the floral scented air, and tried to figure out how he was going to get all those arrangements to the base without destroying the flowers. 

With a sigh, he began to empty the water out of the various containers, and then carry them down to his car.  One he left standing, intending to take it to Emma next door when he got home from work that night.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel insisted on holding Shannon’s hand when they went into the exam room. 

Her face reflected her worry, and he couldn’t fathom what she was so upset about.  He waited with her, poking around the room while she got undressed and put on a disposable paper gown as the nurse instructed, and then stood beside the table and rubbed her back and shoulders. 

“That’s getting a little annoying,” she told him. 

“What?” 

“This constant attention. I’m smothering.” 

“Oh.  Sorry.”  He backed off, strolling over to the counter and picking up a pamphlet.  He set it back down again and looked for something else of interest in the room besides his fiancée. 

A moment later, Doctor Frasier stepped in with a smile, which disappeared into a look of surprise as she caught sight of the man in the room.  “Daniel, what are you doing here?  Happy birthday, by the way.” 

“Thank you.”  He cleared his throat and frowned.  “Um…  I’m here for… moral support?” 

Janet looked down at the chart.  She glanced at Shannon, then at Daniel, then back at the chart, her eyebrows lifted in surprise.  “Pregnancy exam?” 

A nurse came in and stepped behind the table. 

“Yeah.  Five weeks or so.”  Shannon sighed. 

“Thirty-eight days exactly,” Daniel corrected with a note of pride. 

Shannon glared at him. 

Janet looked surprised again.  “I won’t ask how you know that, Daniel,” the doctor said stiffly.  “Well, let’s get started, shall we?  Assume the position.” 

Shannon lay back on the table and slid down to the end, placing her legs in the stirrups as Janet took a seat on the stool at the foot of the table.  Daniel turned around, suddenly very interested in that pamphlet once again.  He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. 

His fingers touched the scar. 

He heard laughter, and knew whose it was. 

“Not now,” he whispered, gripping the counter.  His insides twisted up until he could hardly breathe.  He was trembling. 

_The child is mine, Daniel.  It will have my memories, as you do._

“That sure feels like a five-week uterus,” Janet observed brightly.  “Other signs?  Sore breasts, morning sickness, abated period—“ 

“All that, yes.  I did a home test a few weeks ago, and it came back positive,” Shannon informed the doctor.  “I’ve just been putting this off, because I’m concerned about a few things.” 

“Such as?”  Janet stood up, pulled off her gloves and helped Shannon sit up. 

Shannon glanced at the nurse. 

Janet dismissed her.  “Better?” 

Nodding, Shannon sighed.  “This baby was conceived off-world, in the Storehouse of the Ancients.” 

Janet stepped into Daniel’s view, glaring at him.  “Is that right, Daniel?” 

Shannon cleared her throat, drawing her attention back.  “I’d been on several tranquilizers and other drugs for a few days just before conception, courtesy of Doctor Romani.  You should probably check with him to find out what they were.  I don’t know if any of them might have had an effect on the baby, but I’d appreciate it if you’d look into that for me.” 

Janet blew out a breath.  “He and I have already gone over that, but I’ll recheck your charts and let you know.  Anything else?” 

“I don’t know exactly how to describe it except that, while the conception was happening, I was… um… glowing.  As in, _actually_ putting out light.” 

There was silence in the room for a moment. 

“Glowing.” Janet stared at her.  “I’m not sure what that means.” 

Shannon did her best to explain while staring at her lap in abject embarrassment.  “I don’t know what caused the phenomenon.  I don’t know if it could have affected the baby, but I want to know.  I mean, I’m Catholic so I’ll take whatever I get, but I’d like to be prepared for any eventual… complications.” 

She hesitated, looking up as a small noise caught her attention.  “Daniel?” 

He was shaking violently.  “Oh, God.”  He turned around, tears in his eyes.  He hadn’t thought about any of that, but each incident could certainly have contributed to birth defects or other potentially serious – or lethal – conditions for the growing child. 

There was even a possibility that it might not even be _human_ , that they had been the instruments for the creation of something… else. 

Daniel sat down hard in the nearest chair. 

Shannon glanced at Doctor Frasier, then back at him.  “Maybe I should have done this alone.”  She hopped off the table and came to him, taking him into her arms. 

“I didn’t think about any of that,” he whispered brokenly.  “God, Shannon.  What if—“ 

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions just yet, folks,” Janet advised.  “I’ll do a full workup on Shannon and let both of you know if I find any abnormalities.  We’ll keep closer than usual tabs on the baby, and you’ll know if there’s even a hint of anything unusual going on.  All right?  Don’t worry until we know there’s something to worry about, okay?” 

He nodded, holding Shannon close and struggling to maintain his composure, what there was of it. 

But inside, he was breaking up. 

In the back of his mind, he could still hear the laughter and that mocking voice echoing, _The child will be a monster.  It is mine!_

“Don’t come apart, Danny,” Shannon whispered beneath his chin.  “It’s okay.  We’ll get through this.” 

He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, trying desperately to exorcise the ghost in his mind. 

“I think I need to see Doctor Romani,” he admitted. 

“I’ll walk you there,” she volunteered.  “Let me get dressed.” 

He shook his head and eased out of her embrace.  “You stay here. Get the blood work and other tests started.  I’ll go to his office and you and I can talk later.” 

He didn’t kiss her goodbye.  He didn’t even look at her, couldn’t see past the anxiety in his mind, and felt his way blindly for the door. 

Out in the hallway, he collected himself enough to get his vision back, following the corridors out of instinct rather than any true realization of where he was. 

Numbness made his whole being tingle. 

Romani was seeing someone when he arrived, so Daniel took a seat in the anteroom to wait.  He didn’t know how long he was there. Time seemed to have no meaning, and reality had seeped away.  He couldn’t see the ugly gray room or the cheap, beat-up, government-issue furniture.  He couldn’t smell the scent of concrete and sweat that permeated the waiting area, nor did he hear his name when Romani called it. 

The summons registered when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he followed the man into his office, standing in the middle of the room, his head down for a full minute before he realized the doctor was speaking to him. 

“I’m losing my mind,” he whispered.  “I can hear Anubis talking to me, Doctor Romani.  Not all the time.  Usually it’s some snide comment, or laughter.  He likes to… hurt me.” 

Realizing how utterly looney that sounded, Daniel tried to snatch the words back.  “I didn’t mean that, exactly.  I just…”  He searched Romani’s eyes, and saw genuine compassion there.  “I think part of him is still in me.  Somehow.  His body’s gone, but our minds… They’re still connected.” 

Daniel put his hands to his head.  “I thought the baby would make it all better.  It _is_ better.” 

He started to pace, holding onto his head.  “But Anubis is still haunting me.  Please, help me.  He shouldn’t still be in my head.” 

He stopped pacing.  He stood very still, staring at the floor.  He couldn’t hear anything except the beating of his own heart. 

_You will always belong to me._

Daniel’s eyes closed, and he crumpled to a heap on the floor.

 

* * *

 

MacKenzie’s voice filtered into his consciousness in mid-sentence. “…clearly a break with reality. He’s in a delusional state and should be com—“ 

“Get the hell away from my patient,” Romani snapped.  “If there weren’t such a thing as Goa’uld symbiotes, I might agree with you, Doctor, but since there _are,_ traditional means of psychiatric diagnosis don’t really apply here, now, do they?  I asked for a simple opinion.  You can be damn sure I won’t make that mistake twice.” 

Daniel’s eyes opened to take in Romani standing guard between the bed where he lay and the older shrink.  “Go, Doc,” he murmured with a sleepy smile.  “Thanks.” 

MacKenzie looked like he’d just eaten raw _auklat_ heart, and walked away. 

Romani turned to bend over the bed, and smiled down at his patient.  “Hey.  Feeling any better?” 

“A little light-headed.  What kind of drugs did you give me?” 

“Just a little something to help you relax.  You still taking the antidepressants?” 

“Like clockwork.  Haven’t missed one yet, not even off-world.” 

“Good.  I’d like you to rest here for a couple of hours, and then I’ll come back and we’ll have a chat.  Okay?” 

“Am I in the infirmary?”  He glanced around at the room, recognizing it from his many visits.  “Yep. This is my bed.” 

“Think you’re up for a visitor?” Romani glanced toward the door. 

Shannon stood there, her pale face etched with worry. 

“Hey, honey.  I’m okay.  Just went a little weird there for a minute,” he assured her as she came running toward the bed. 

She bent down and kissed him, stroked his hair and petted his face. 

Daniel grinned at Romani, pleased with the euphoric haze he was in.  “Good drugs, Doc.  This is a lot better than voices in my head.” 

“All the tests are fine,” Shannon assured him.  “Everything looks perfectly normal.” 

“The medications I gave Shannon on Siraket shouldn’t have any effect on the fetus,” Romani assured him, patting his shoulder. 

“It’s our _baby_ , not a fetus,” Daniel corrected drowsily. 

Romani heaved a sigh at him, and then shot a displeased glance at Shannon.  “Had anybody consulted me, I’d have advised _against_ what you two did.  Neither one of you were in any state to contemplate parenthood—“ 

“Too late.  It’s done.”  Daniel looked down at her flat belly and pressed his palm against it.  He smiled.  “And I’m _so_ glad we did, Shannon.  This baby is just what I need.” 

He pulled her down into his arms and held her, eyes closing again.  “I need you and our baby.  That’s all.” 

She eased away and stroked his hair.  “You look tired.  Want to sleep a little while?  I’ll stay right here.” 

“Sure.  But where’s Jack?” 

“Out in the waiting room, wearing a rut in the concrete floor,” Romani admitted.  “Shall I send him in?” 

Daniel nodded.  When the doctor left them alone, he took Shannon’s hand. 

“Jack knows, honey.  He’s the only one I told.”  He frowned.  “And Teal’c.  And Sam.  She helped me pick out some of the music for this morning, and shot down some of the other ideas I had.  I figured, a woman would know best what another woman would like, and Sam’s the closest thing I’ve got to a sister.” 

“It’s okay, honey.  Just rest.” 

“Hey, kids,” said Jack as he strolled casually in, his expression guarded.  “Doc said you had quite a shock this morning.” 

Daniel looked around for a clock, then thought to check his wrist for his watch.  “What time is it?  My eyes won’t focus on this thing.  _Damn_ good drugs.” 

“After lunch.  You didn’t miss anything.  They had shit on a shingle in the commissary, but nobody ate it.” 

Daniel chuckled.  “You know I’m going crazy, don’t you, Jack?” 

“Nope.  Just under a little more stress than usual.  What’d she say?”  He looked pointedly at Shannon. 

Reaching for her hand, Daniel held it up to show off the ring.  “I’m the luckiest man in the universe.” 

“You _are_ going crazy,” Shannon teased.  “And I’m done pacing.  I want to sit down for a while.”  She moved off to drag up a chair beside the bed. 

“Set a date yet?” Jack asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his BDUs pants. 

“Haven’t got that far.  I was just thrilled she didn’t turn me down again.”  Daniel sighed and rubbed his face wearily with his free hand, still clinging to Shannon’s with the other. 

“Jack, I’m hearing voices. A voice.  I hear Anubis, taunting me, laughing at me.  Not all the time, just now and then.  Scares the crap out of me.” 

Then he thought about how that must’ve sounded to his fiancée and eyed her.  “Am I scaring you?” 

She shook her head and smiled.  “No.  You’ve been through a lot.  We don’t know that much about our own minds, much less how being invaded by an alien psyche would affect us.” 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed.  “What she said.”  He winked at Shannon.  “Smart cookie.  Welcome to the family.” 

Turning back to Daniel, he added more seriously, “We’ve put this down as a fatherhood thing.  Whole base knows you got a bun in the oven now, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s all it is.  Shannon’s okay and so is Junior Jackson, so you rest and talk to Romani, and we go on from here.  Okay?” 

“Sure, Jack.  Thanks.”  He grabbed his CO’s hand and held it for a moment.  “I love you, y’know.  You’re always there for me.  Even when you’re being a pain in the ass.” 

Jack chuckled.  “Whoa, those _must_ be good drugs… Backatcha, Danny Boy.  Get some sleep.”  He walked around the bed, leaned down and kissed Shannon’s cheek.  “Call if you need me, Smurf.” 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

Daniel stared after him, then turned his gaze to his fiancée.  “You two got to be pretty good friends awfully fast,” he observed wonderingly. 

“We’ve had a few conversations about you,” she admitted with a secretive grin.  “One Irishman to another.” 

“Well, _that’s_ gotta stop.”  Daniel’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“Shut up and go to sleep,” she ordered gently. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded without hesitation, and proceeded to obey.

 

* * *

 

 ** _Somewhere in Space_**

Osiris reclined upon her golden couch, going over the plans once again. All was going exceedingly well. For months now, her Jaffa and those of the System Lords had been searching for populous planets simple enough to fall to their weaponry. Scores had already been taken, and the ranks of the warrior class fattened to ridiculous numbers. Even now they were being trained, the rude and brutish for hand-to-hand combat or ground troops armed with staff weapons and the like; the intelligent and educated rushed through pilot training while more death gliders were being built on other worlds. 

The process was taking a great deal of time, but the Goa’uld had time aplenty. He glanced down at the slender, beautiful body he inhabited and smiled. His hand stole beneath the gown he wore, his fingers smoothing over the soft, satin skin. Though female, this body pleased Osiris immensely. 

Still, once the universe was under Goa’uld control, a male body would need to be procured. Osiris was fully male, after all. And though he had no qualms about mating with the few remaining queens while in this host, he preferred that the host body be able to enjoy the pleasures he remembered when Isis was his wife. He would breed Goa’uld incessantly with all the queens, hopeful that, if enough of their offspring were born, there would be enough sexed young to carry on their race. 

Not that he really cared about that, when the universe lay at the feet of his host. 

War machines would be finished in obscene supplies in a matter of months, a year at the outside. And when the numbers were right, _ha’taks_ and death gliders would depart for all quadrants of the galaxy, seeking battle with the Asgard and anyone else who crossed their paths. Osiris would lead his people to the First World, and he would stand on the _peltac_ and watch as the planet was set ablaze from space. 

He laughed and lifted a goblet of wine to his painted lips.

The Tau’ri had been searching in vain for someone to help them for years, and no one would lift a hand for them. Luck and their own crude technology had bought them precious time, given them a handful of victories against Goa’uld who were careless and underestimated their prey. 

But Osiris knew the one Anubis had chosen as a host.  Though Anubis was his own progeny, he cared little that the dark god had fallen into the hands of the Tau’ri.  Anubis had made it possible for Osiris to take the seat of power, and for that he was pleased… but there was no gratitude in his heart. 

Osiris owed no one. 

“My lord Osiris,” said the _lotaur_ , kneeling beside the couch.  “The Lady Neith requests permission to meet privately with you.” 

Osiris sat upright, a thrill of fear coursing through him.

Neith never made casual visits, and Ashraks could always be bought by other System Lords, even though Neith was supposedly in service only to Osiris.  There was tremendous potential that someone had hired her to dispatch Osiris, and for that reason, he would be cautious. 

“Send for her, Menen,” he ordered,.“but you will have two of my personal guard attend me during her audience.” 

Menen paled, understanding, and bowed.  “As you wish, my lord.”  He left in a hurry. 

Presently, two Jaffa in full battle gear entered the chamber and posted themselves behind her couch, staff weapons in hand. 

Neith swept in soundlessly, her sheer skirt billowing about her ankles like a dark cloud.  She made obeisance to Osiris and took a seat on a nearby padded stool.  Her eyes studied the female form with apparent approval. 

“My lord Osiris is lovely,” she commented idly. 

“You have not come to seduce me, Lady Neith,” Osiris returned formally.  “What news do you bring?” 

Neith inclined her head gracefully.  “A small space of time past, one of the Ashraks went in secret to the First world,” she reported, “to watch them and study those most important to our cause.  I sent you the message, so you would know.” 

Osiris inclined his head.  “I thank you for that courtesy, Neith.  Your plan was a good one.  What have you learned from watching them?” 

Neith glanced up at the Jaffa.  “Perhaps you wish to spare these Jaffa?  It is news for no other than the gods.”  Her dark eyes glittered with secrets. 

Osiris didn’t even glance at them; however, he did rise and go to the fixture that closed and locked all the doors into that room.  “I trust them, Neith,” said Osiris with a smile.  “Whatever you wish to tell me, they may also hear.” 

Neith nodded and rose, ambling toward the blonde woman as she spoke, lowering her voice as she approached. 

“The prophecy grows stronger,” she said quietly.  “In far distant worlds where there are no _chaapa’ai_ , where none travel through space, our soldiers have gone raiding.  Even there, we hear the word being spoken.” 

“The _Shetat_?” Osiris asked, making no effort to be hushed. 

Neith bowed.  “He is coming.  The prophets say he has already been born.  We have little time, my lord.  We cannot risk the rise of the One, or we may be destroyed.” 

Osiris sneered.  “We are more powerful now than we have ever been, Neith.  Not even the Asgard can defeat us now, with what we have taken from the Ancients.” 

Stepping closer, Neith’s hand brushed against the other woman’s arm.  Her voice was a tense whisper.  “That is exactly when the prophets say the _Shetat_ will strike us down, Osiris.” 

Her eyes flashed with warning.  “Do not be so blind you cannot see what lies ahead.  You will doom us all.” 

For a moment, the blonde just stared at the other woman. 

Osiris sniffed and drifted closer.  He took Neith into his arms and inhaled her breath. 

“You are ready to breed, Neith.  I will seed you, and you will stay with me long enough to bear your young.” 

His grip grew tighter, and he felt the woman stiffen against him. 

“I still carry the seed of Ra until I can no longer hold off bearing again.  I have no need of _your_ seed, Osiris.”  Neith pulled one arm out of Osiris’s grip and grabbed a handful of blonde hair.  “And if you wish me to continue to serve you, my lord, you will _not_ force me.  Ashraks make powerful enemies.” 

She let go the hair.  “And we also _make_ Supreme Lords.” 

Taking the hint, Osiris let her go.  “Very well, Neith.  I would rather have more of Ra’s offspring to deal with than engender an enemy among my own.” 

Neith bowed slightly, stiffly, and rose again to meet his eyes.  “If you succeed, you will bring us all we could ever have dreamed,” she murmured.  “Should that time come, I will be yours.  But if you fail, my lord…” 

“Is that a threat, Neith?”  Osiris strolled idly away, returning to her couch and her cup. 

The brunette said nothing. 

“Find the _Shetat_ ,” Osiris ordered.  “Destroy all who speak this blasphemy, even among our warriors.” 

“We do not know where to look, my lord.” 

Osiris considered.  “Question those who tell this tale.  Surely some among these prophets will know.  And when they have told you…” 

Neith nodded.  “Yes, my lord.”  She bowed deeply and headed for the door. She let herself out, and closed it behind her. 

Osiris smiled at his Jaffa. 

“I wish entertainment,” she told them, desire rising, making the host body tingle with pleasure. “Remove your clothes and join me on my couch.” 

He watched them obey in all haste, eager to please their beautiful goddess. 

And when he was finished with them, he slipped on the ribbon device and made sure they would tell no one of the forbidden legend they had heard in the chamber of the gods.

 

* * *

 

**_Stargate Command_ **

**_Earth_ **

 

Once Logan was safely behind all the checkpoints and security, Jack felt better, but the events of the night nagged at him, demanding action. 

His mind sifted back through _The Art of War_ , one of his favorite books on strategy.  He went through the motions of his day, remembering other instructional tools he had studied as a young soldier, and finally he had a plan.

As night fell, he got into his truck and drove to Denver, parking well away from his target and making his way silently through the residential neighborhood.  He listened for dogs, looked for alarm systems and closed circuit TV cameras, watched for pedestrians out for an evening jog, but there was nothing to hamper him, to make his mission difficult. 

Guys like Wyckland never expected anyone to come hunting them.  That was how predators thought, that they were at the top of the food chain, but for every hunter, there was always something bigger or badder… and Jack O’Neill was _way_ badder than Wyckland ever dreamed of being. 

Wyckland liked his victims helpless and weak. 

Jack preferred an even match. 

He entered the house easily, stealthily, and made his way up to the bedroom where his quarry lay.  Photos in frames downstairs had confirmed that this was the right house, and that the man lived alone. 

Jack stole into the bedroom, saw the shape under the covers and the glint of silver hair on the pillow.  Like a shadow he eased into place, drew his service knife, and held it where the moonlight streaming in the window would catch on the sharp edge of the blade. 

Gently, he lowered his free hand, clamping it down over Wyckland’s mouth and pinning him to the bed. 

The man woke instantly. 

“I got a message for you from Seneca,” Jack growled.  “You show up in the same town as her again, and I’ll make sure you sing soprano.  Capiche?” 

Wyckland’s momentary struggle stopped as he caught sight of the knife. 

Jack saw in the dim light the flicker of recognition in the man’s eyes. 

“You know who I am?” 

Under his hand, the man nodded. 

“Bet you even know my name, don’tcha?” 

He nodded again. 

Jack grinned, hatred burning in his heart.  “I know all about you, too, buddy.  Where you live, what you eat for breakfast, all kinds of shit like that.  Which, in itself, oughtta scare you.  See, you don’t want to mess with guys like me. And you don’t want to mess with Seneca, because I’m lookin’ out for her.  You got that?” 

Slowly, Jack pulled his hand away. 

“I got it, asshole,” Wyckland snarled. 

“Hey, you _do_ know my name.” Jack smiled again, and winked at his victim.

Then all trace of humor melted away as he straightened.  “And I don’t even have to send the next message in person.  This was just a courtesy call, one wolf to another.  If anything happens to her or to me, there will be a whole network of really, _really_ bad guys out lookin’ for you.  And these are guys you _don’t_ want to find you, especially not in the dark.” 

“She’s mine,” Wyckland whispered, apparently not intimidated by the scare tactics. 

“Not anymore,” Jack assured him.  “I was hoping we could come to an understanding here, but I see you’re gonna be a stubborn bastard, so I gotta pull out all the stops.  Just remember, you asked for it.  And it’s just a small sample of what you’ll get if you sniff up her trail again.” 

He pulled a zat from its hiding place, stepped back from the bed and fired. 

When the man roused, Jack saw the look of horror and fear on his face with pleasure. 

“I see I’ve made my point.” 

Wyckland cowered under the covers, blathering apologies, begging for his life. 

“Just remember... you don’t want to be in the same city as Seneca Logan or her son.  Maybe not even in the same state.  Now get up and go hide in your closet.” 

The man bolted to do his bidding, and Jack wedged some folded paper between the door and frame as he closed it.  The wedge would make the door stick, make it hard to open but not impossible, and it would make the exit noisy, so he could hear it if he was still in the house. 

He made his exit quick and clean, got to his truck and stowed the zat in a special hidden compartment under his seat.  He changed clothes as he drove, left town quickly and headed for home, wondering if he’d lost his mind. 

That was a risky, stupid stunt that could get him in big trouble... or free Seneca Logan forever. 

If he succeeded in the latter, it would be worth the risk.  He slept alone that night with a clear conscience, and a few days later, took notice that his latest inquiry into Trent Wyckland’s life showed that the man had quit his lucrative job and moved to California for no apparent reason.

Logan had no need to know what transpired between her past and present, but one day, when the crisis facing their world was over, he just might tell her to put her mind at ease.

 

* * *

##### 25 August 

Daniel paced the chapel with his head down, wishing he’d chosen his apparel more wisely. Shannon had specifically said for him not to wear a suit, because she didn’t like them. They looked stiff, she had complained, and made the wearer look uncomfortable. His BDUs were way at the other end of the spectrum, so those had been out as well. He’d gone shopping several times, but nothing seemed quite right for a wedding, and since this was his first traditional ceremony, he wanted it to be just right. 

Several times he’d gone to his closet and looked at the robes he’d worn on Abydos, threadbare in places and completely foreign-looking, but something about them kept pulling him back. He remembered his accidental wedding to Shau’ri – a bunch of older matrons giving him as much of a bath as he would allow – followed by a night alone with a woman he didn’t realize was his bride. It hadn’t been until some time later that he had discovered Shau’ri wasn’t just a one-night-stand-gift, but his wife. This time, he was going into the relationship fully cognizant of the responsibilities of a husband, and he wanted it to be perfect. 

He stood at the altar in his Abydoan robes and a pair of hand-made boots Kasuf had given him for his birthday that year with Shau’ri. He closed his eyes, feeling for her in his soul, and found the warmth of her joy still there. It felt like a blessing. 

_Be happy, Daniel._

Reyenne’s voice filtered through his memory and brought tears to his eyes. She, too, had left her mark on his heart, bringing him back to life after Shau’ri’s loss. And in a way, she had been directly responsible for connecting him to Shannon. If he hadn’t gone to Siraket, he’d never have made the journey that led him back to Archives. If he hadn’t seen the Siraketans dance, he’d never have understood that Shannon had been there during the missing two years. Everything that had happened to him – including becoming host to Anubis – had brought him to love. 

A large, warm hand settled on his shoulder. “Are you all right, Daniel Jackson?” 

He looked up at his best man. “Yeah, Teal’c. Just second guessing my choice of outfits.” 

Teal’c’s mouth softened into an almost smile. “ShannonMurphy will be pleased.” 

The music started, and Daniel turned his attention to the main doorway of the base chapel, over the heads of the unexpectedly large crowd of well-wishers. His eyes went directly to the man in the dress uniform, who met his eyes steadily. Jack had informed him only a week earlier that he had something else to do during the wedding that would prevent his being the best man. Daniel had been devastated, but now he understood. 

Jack O’Neill walked in with Shannon on his arm, giving the bride away. 

Tears filled Daniel’s eyes and he let them fall as he watched them come toward him. She hadn’t chosen one of those frilly, lacy white bridal gowns. Instead, she wore an off-white robe that looked Egyptian in design, adorned with Celtic knotwork all in shades of green. A green veil was draped over her head, and he noted with a big smile that she was barefoot. He barely heard what was said over them, responding out of instinct rather than any great awareness of what was happening.  She slipped a heavy gold band onto his finger and he pulled her into his arms, holding on for a moment while the ceremony came to a brief stop.  When it was over, he lifted her off her feet and kissed her soundly, delirious with joy. 

The applause sounded like thunder in his ears, but he couldn’t see anything but Shannon. 

“You’re mine,” he told her.  “And I love you.” 

She was beaming, but there was still a trace of sadness in her eyes.  She still didn’t believe, even though she wanted to, desperately.  She stroked her hands over the soft fabric of his robe.  “I was hoping you’d wear that,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

She shook her head, refusing to answer.  “Do you think Shau’ri would mind?” 

He pressed his hand against her belly.  “No.  She’d be happy for me.  For us.” 

“Party time,” Jack reminded him brightly 

_“Picture_ time,” Sam corrected, and pushed them all back toward the altar. 

Nearly an hour later, the wedding party adjourned to the commissary, where the back section had been turned into a reception hall.  The party continued at Jack’s house afterward since drinking wasn’t allowed on the base proper, and as evening approached the couple departed for their new house, just down the block from O’Neill’s.  Daniel carried his bride across the threshold, noting with satisfaction that the bedroom had been made ready, though the rest of the house was empty.  A moving party was scheduled for the coming weekend, but tonight there would be no thought given to anything but love. 

He laid his wife down on their bed, and proceeded to show her in infinite detail just how much he cared.

 

* * *

 

Adam Romani was pacing the sidewalk outside Carter’s home when she arrived.  He smiled at her, and she answered reflexively. 

“Hey, long time, no see,” she teased. but there was no lightness in her heart as she regarded him.  She’d barely seen him in two months, and then only incidentally at the base. 

He didn’t smile back.  “May I come in?” he asked softly.  His expression was serious. 

Her heart did a flip-flop.  She knew what that meant.  He had come to say good-bye. 

“Sure,” she responded lightly, and unlocked the door.  She stepped inside and disabled the alarm, resetting it once he was inside, the door locked behind them.  “Want something to drink?” 

“No, thanks.  I came to talk.” 

“Well, you don’t have to do that, Ro. I already got the message.”  She spoke as she set her things down on the entry table and moved off toward the living room. 

He touched her arm, demanding that she make eye contact.  “ _Never_ assume you know what’s going on in someone else’s heart, Samantha,” he growled huskily.  “I love you.  Don’t doubt that.” 

“Yeah.  That’s why we’ve been so darn cozy lately,” she snarked.  She pulled her arm free and resumed her trek into the living room, taking a seat on the sofa. 

He followed her and put a little space between them, angling his body to face her.  “Things have been difficult for me since we got back from Siraket,” he explained.  “There have been unexpected… complications.  I’m still dealing with them.” 

Sam didn’t look at him, just eyed the far wall and listened, waiting for him to get to the point. 

He sighed.  “I received a financial judgment from the man who… put me into that wheelchair,” he began.  “After Daniel healed me, I didn’t feel right about keeping the money, since I didn’t need it anymore.  I should have just kept my miracle to myself, but now I’m in a lot of hot water.  The Merle Legal Firm is claiming I was faking the whole time, and demanding restitution.  I don’t have the money I already spent on specially equipped vans, wheelchairs and medical care for the last six years.  There’s no way I can give it back.” 

She closed her eyes, understanding his difficulties immediately.  “Oh, Ro!  You didn’t tell them you were healed, did you?”  She turned to face him, to look into those dark, troubled eyes behind the glasses. “God, you know all the stuff that happens at SGC is classified!  Especially the things we can’t explain – like miracles.” 

He nodded.  “Yeah.  I know.  I didn’t tell them, either.  I just tried to stop the payments.  I insisted that the military was covering my needs adequately and they weren’t necessary anymore.”  He sighed and buried his face in his hands for a moment, pushing his glasses upward with his fingers.  “God, it’s turned into such a nightmare.” 

He took his spectacles off and began to clean them nervously.  “For the first month or so, I kept up the appearances that nothing had changed.  I left the base in my chair, drove home in my van, went out in public on my wheels, but as time went on, I started to forget the show.  I’d get out of the chair as soon as I got home.  Sometimes I’d walk off the base and have to go back inside for the chair before I drove away.  The lawyers got suspicious and apparently hired a PI to follow me and take pictures.  They got some good ones.” 

“Oh, Ro.”  He didn’t have to explain how much trouble he was in now.  She got the picture clearly, her mind spinning off in a dozen directions, figuring the ramifications of his supposed deception in legal terms.  She reached for him.  He was trembling as he put his arms around her and held her close.  “Can I help?” 

“General Hammond’s working on a solution,” he told her softly, his voice shaking.  “We have verifiable medical record up until June that state my physical condition was no fraud.  We just have to find a way to explain away my impossible recovery without having the rest of the world’s paraplegics knocking on our door until we’re ready to make this kind of cure readily available.”  He sniffed.  “I don’t think Doctor Jackson would be willing to spend every waking hour for the rest of his life healing the sick and injured.  I’ve seen how much it takes out of him, and there’s far more need in the world than he could cover by himself.” 

“And then there’s the alien technology that made it all possible in the first place,” she added softly, her heart going out to him.  “They’ll come up with something plausible, Adam.  They always find a way to cover our collective asses when the spotlight hits.” 

He breathed a soft, shaky laugh.  “You paint an interesting word picture, Samantha.”  He kissed her cheek briefly, and his arms tightened around her.  “Do you understand now?  It isn’t you.  It isn’t us.” 

“Yeah.  I get it, Ro.  And I know it’s not going to go away with a snap of the fingers.”  She sighed and pulled back so she could see his face.  “I know you’re scared, and I’m here if you need me.  Take the time you need to deal with this, and I’ll be here when you put it to bed.” 

Pain gleamed in his eyes.  “I miss you, Samantha Carter,” he whispered, his fingers tracing her cheek. 

“I miss you, too, Adam.”  She wanted to kiss him, to make love to him and make him feel better, but she knew it would just be a band-aid on open-heart surgery.  This was tearing him apart, and he needed far more support than a roll in the hay.  “Can I make you dinner?” 

He nodded, obviously so upset he didn’t remember she couldn’t cook worth crap. 

Sam rose and went into the kitchen, pulling out the bread and cold cuts, checking the dates on the meat to be sure they hadn’t expired, and sorting through her condiments to see what sort of sandwiches she could make.  Throwing something together with a couple of beers, she carried a tray back into the living room and set it down on the coffee table. 

Romani had reclined on the sofa and gone to sleep, his long body stretched out fully and covering the furniture completely, end to end. 

He was so tall, and filled out his uniforms so beautifully now.  He was such a sweet man, so caring and warm, and he didn’t deserve what he was going through.  She’d have a chat with the General tomorrow and offer her help searching for a solution to his dilemma.  Adam Romani was vital to the SGC for the service he provided to their teams, for his compassion and guidance to those troubled souls like Daniel who were so deeply affected by the cost of the mission.  They had to save him somehow, to relieve him of the stress of this personal situation so he could keep his attention where it mattered most – on his patients.  That was far more important than her personal investment in the man, and she knew it. 

But she could still love him in the privacy of her own heart, and in whatever moments they might steal for themselves in the meantime. 

She woke him with a kiss, fed him a sandwich while she rubbed his back and sat close beside him on the couch, and talked about the wedding to take his mind off his troubles.  And when they finished eating and had cleaned up the kitchen, he took her into his arms and kissed her.  One kiss led to another, and hours later he lay sleeping beside her in her bed, his arms still around her, refusing to let her go even in his dreams. 

Sam could deal with that.  And whatever lay ahead, she knew exactly what kind of man he was. He had given her the gift, wrapped in all his troubles, and asked her to be patient with him.  He loved her without reservation, and that was exactly what she wanted.

 

* * *

 

**3 October**

 

Daniel pouted as he trudged down the corridor after signing out for the day. He had overheard Sam and Shannon discussing the birthday party they were throwing for Logan, but no one had invited him.  He was Logan’s boss and one of Sam’s best friends, and he felt deeply slighted by the lack of consideration for his feelings. 

Even his wife had shut him out, and that wasn’t like her at all. 

The gift he’d purchased for the birthday girl was in the trunk of his car. He’d planned to give it to her during the day, at some point before the shift was over, but once he’d heard about the party it just didn’t seem right that he was going to have to miss it.  After all, Logan was fun, and she would love the Chinese puzzle ball he’d found for her. 

He got into his car and sat behind the wheel for a moment, growing angrier by the second. 

_Go to the party anyway_ , said that unwelcome voice in his subconscious.  _They will not turn you away._

Anger faded into resolve and he drove straight to the restaurant, knowing he would be half an hour early for the party.  The hostess showed him to a private room with several tables set in a U-shape that left an open area in the front of the room.  The setup was tight and he barely had room to squeeze himself into the back and take a seat just to one side of the center, leaving the honor chair for Logan.  He put his package in front of the place setting there and ordered a glass of ice water with lemon, making himself comfortable while he waited. 

Sam, Shannon and Logan all entered the room at once, chatting noisily and laughing as they shed their coats and gave them to the hostess.  They turned as one and fell instantly silent upon seeing him.  Then Logan beamed and strode toward him, arms open, and hugged him as she sat down. 

“DJ, I didn’t know you’d been invited.  This is gonna be fun!” 

He noted the other two women still stood in the doorway, exchanging meaningful glances and giggling behind their hands. 

“Uh, Daniel,” Sam ventured hesitantly, “not to be rude or anything, but who invited you?” 

“I’m crashing your party,” he stated emphatically.  “Though I don’t know if I should feel insulted that I was left out.  I mean, I thought you guys _liked_ me.”  He directed that comment at his wife, who beamed back at him with secrets glimmering in her Irish eyes. 

Logan chuckled and rubbed his shoulder.  “We _love_ you, Sweetie.”  She glanced at the other women.  “Oh, come on!  He can be one of the girls, don’tcha think?  He’s always been in touch with his feminine side.” 

Shannon laughed and shook her head.  “Oh, I’ve _got_ to see this.  Pity we didn’t sell tickets.”  She came around the table and sat down on the other side of him. 

Daniel frowned at Logan.  “One of the _girls?”_ he asked uncertainly. 

Sam took a chair at one of the side tables.  _“This_ I’ve gotta see,” she grinned, eyes dancing. 

One by one, Janet Frasier, Major Majors, Lieutenants Satterfield and Hailey and all the other women of Stargate Command arrived and took their chairs. 

Daniel began to understand why he hadn’t been issued an invitation.  The party was apparently the full complement of women on the SGC staff, and he vacillated between feeling out of place and like the only rooster in the hen house. 

The wait staff assembled shortly after the last chair was filled, and began to take orders for drinks. 

Shannon reached under the table and took his hand, giving it a squeeze that made him glance at her, just as another waiter entered the room.  He set a boom box on the small table in the corner near the door where most of the other presents were piled, and plugged the machine in.  Silence fell as every head turned toward him. 

He started a tape and strode to the empty space in the center of the room. 

The music started and he struck a pose. 

A terrible feeling of impending embarrassment settled inside Daniel Jackson. 

The man began to dance.  He moved fluidly, his body undulating while one foot tapped in rhythm to the music.  The beat picked up, and he reached for his tie.  He pulled it off slowly, and the women began to cheer and clap.  He dropped the tie on the floor and snatched his jacket off one shoulder, teasing it back on and off again. 

Daniel got it then, and searched frantically for an escape route.  There wasn’t one, unless he slithered under the table and went out the other side, jostling the stripper to one side as he passed.  That would trample his dignity, so he directed his eyes toward his empty plate and grabbed a menu, pretending to study it instead. 

Logan stood up, clapping enthusiastically, and caught the suit jacket as it came flying through the air. 

Pretending not to notice, Daniel concentrated intently on that menu, unable to read a word of it. 

Shannon cheered and started dancing in her seat. 

Stunned, Daniel stared at her.  She was his _wife,_ for goodness sake!  A wide smile was plastered on her face as she encouraged the man to take off more. 

Daniel glanced back at him just as he grasped the waistband of his pants.  One violent snap forward, and the pants came apart at the outer seams.  They landed in front of Sam, who snatched them up and waved them above her head as she gave a war whoop worthy of any battle-hardened Cheyenne. 

His mouth fell open. 

“Who _are_ you women?” he asked softly, though none of them heard him. 

Every one of them was beaming, eyes fixed on the half-naked man in their midst.  He turned back to the menu, face on fire with embarrassment, and finally managed to choose something for dinner. 

Shannon groaned as some other piece of clothing landed in front of her, and Daniel felt insulted.  She _only_ made that noise when they were making love. 

Jealousy flared inside him.  He looked daggers at the stripper, watching his every move with steely intent.  If that were the kind of display she enjoyed, then by God he was going to learn how it was done. 

He hardly blinked during the rest of the performance, committing the moves to memory as best he could.  He studied how the man teased all of the women behind the tables, but especially Logan as guest of honor. When the stripper was done, he gathered the handful of cash being extended out to him, took a final bow and thanked his audience before slipping his coat back on and ducking out the door. 

All eyes turned to Daniel. 

He was calmly studying the menu again, and turned to politely ask his wife what she’d be having for dinner. 

Logan and the other women congratulated him for being such a good sport, and the party got fully underway.

Hours later, he drove home alone and made no mention of the entertainment once his wife arrived separately in her own car.  He took a book to bed and kissed her good night when she slid down under the sheets and sighed.  Pretending to read a little longer, he switched out the lamp and lay down on his pillow, intending to make no move toward her. 

He didn’t have to.  She came after him with a vengeance, motor hot and revved, and he fully enjoyed the results of the earlier stimulation.  Shannon tired easily now that she had hit the halfway point in her pregnancy, and when he knew she was flagging he took his own pleasure and snuggled against her backside, his arm around her waist as they always lay to go to sleep. 

Still, he did not go to sleep immediately.  His mind was spinning, turning with ideas and questions that he could not answer.  _Did she find him as sexy as the stripper?_   He’d never thought of himself as being particularly attractive, subconsciously went out of his way to avoid drawing attention to his body by wearing baggy clothes, ordinary styles that wouldn’t garner anyone’s notice.  He had always hidden behind his glasses and a curtain of long hair until recently. 

Now, however, he _wanted_ Shannon to see him as sexy, only he didn’t have a clue how to get there. 

When he’d proposed, she had told him she wanted him to display his affection for her in a way that was uniquely Daniel Jackson. 

That was going to take a little research, but he’d find a way to make it happen. 

When he rose the next morning, he looked through his closet for something that fit snugly, but there wasn’t anything.  Even his T-shirts were loose.  With a sigh, he dressed in his usual jeans and a blue and white plaid shirt before going to the base.  He spent his morning break on the phone trying to find a source for those pants that just snapped right off, and called all over Colorado Springs, even trying a few strip clubs, before he found where they could be had.  Ordering a pair off the internet, he then began his search for the proper music, hunting by the lyrics he remembered from the previous evening’s entertainment. 

And on his lunch break, he shut the door to his office and tried to remember the dance steps, walking through them to the beat of the remembered tune. 

The door opened just as he was trying a pelvic thrust, and he stumbled and fell on his butt, trying to recover before anybody saw him. 

Jack peered around the door.  “Whatcha doin’?” he asked pleasantly. 

“You don’t wanna know the answer to that,” he assured his CO, “but you really need to ask Logan out on another date.  Trust me on that.” 

That startled his visitor.  “You wanna elaborate on that?” 

“I have three words for you – ‘birthday party’ and ‘stripper.’  You should have _seen_ her, Jack!  She’s a hungry woman.” 

For a moment Jack just stared at him as he got up slowly off the floor. 

The older man stepped back out into the hall and closed the door. 

A moment later, he opened it again. 

“The last time got a little weird, so I thought I’d try this again.  How ya doin,’ Daniel?  Mission-ready yet?” 

“And Sam!  You should have seen her.  I thought for a minute she was gonna jump the guy. They were savages! I was afraid for my life several times.” 

Jack turned around in a complete circle, looking totally bewildered.  “I keep trying to leave this conversation somewhere, but it’s following me.  Make it stop.” 

“Did you not hear about the party last night?” 

“Way more than I _ever_ wanna know.  Don’t ask, don’t tell.” 

Daniel resumed his seat at his desk, embarrassment flaring again.  “I didn’t know they were gonna have a stripper, or I wouldn’t have crashed the party,” he explained. 

Silence thrummed between them. 

“So did the wife get all hot ‘n’ bothered after?” 

Daniel raised and lowered his eyebrows for emphasis as he answered _.  “Oh,_ yeah.” 

“Jealous?” 

Pursing his lips, he debated how to answer that.  “Considering that she’s never admitted that she loves me, you could say that.” 

“What’re you gonna do about it?” 

Daniel lifted his eyes to the other man and smiled, but there was no humor in it, only steely determination.  “I have a plan.” 

“Does it involve falling on your butt?” 

“Apparently.” 

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you, little bro?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer, but came fully into the office and launched into the reason for his visit, which was strictly business oriented, and both of them let the subject die peacefully. 

But Daniel didn’t forget about it. 

For the better part of a week he worked on his routine, practicing the steps at odd moment and in strange places. 

Shannon almost caught him once in the bathroom at home, but he managed to convince her he had slipped in the shower. 

She seemed to have forgotten all about the incident, and settled back into her normally affectionate, good-natured daily routine. 

When the music CD arrived, he managed to get home early on a day she had to stay late, and practiced the whole set a few times before she arrived.  He grabbed his clothes and put them on in the bathroom, calling out in answer to her greeting and assuring her that he’d be out shortly. He was sweating and flustered when he exited, and couldn’t think of an introduction to his performance. 

She went into the kitchen, humming that damned song, and started rummaging through the refrigerator for a snack. 

That was the perfect lead-in, and he started the CD playing, waiting for her to come out of the kitchen, led by her curiosity. 

Her timing was perfect.  He stood in the middle of the living room floor, heel tapping, shoulders back, looking out from under his eyelashes at her, hoping his expression was sexy rather than as frightened as he felt. 

She froze in the doorway, half in and half out of the room. 

He wiggled his hips while his hands went for his tie.  His fingers got caught up in the knot as it came undone, and he dropped it before the cue.  Already off beat, he let it lie there and watched her wander fully into the room and float to the sofa to take a seat. 

There was wonder in her eyes.  She was surprised.  That was good. 

Now if he could just pull off the ‘sexy’ part. 

Daniel flicked his jacket over his shoulder, and his thumb snagged into a buttonhole.  He jerked it back into place and tried it again, losing his grip entirely that time.  Frowning, he concentrated harder on the moves and shrugged the jacket off, tossing it at her on the sofa.  Thrusting his pelvis forward, he reached for the waistband of his pants. 

Half of the snaps came undone, but those on the lower parts of his legs stayed shut.  He stumbled, caught himself, and struggled to find his place in the dance, hurrying to catch up with where he ought to be.  Daniel glanced at his wife and saw the merriment gleaming in her eyes, her mouth half smothering a smile. 

He stopped.  “Oh, God, you’re laughing at me,” he mumbled, and covered his face with his hands. He put his back to her.  “I should have practiced it more.  I thought I had it down, but apparently I don’t have a sexy bone in my body.”  He bent over to finish unsnapping the pants, and dropped them on the floor. 

She was right in front of him when he stood back up. 

“Oh, Danny love!  That was the sweetest thing anyone’s _ever_ done for me,” she gushed, and put her arms around his neck. 

“Sweet,” he said dispiritedly.  “I’m sweet.  Oh, that’s just great.” 

She laughed softly and made him look her in the eye.  “Darling man, you don’t have to _try_ to be sexy.  Don’t you know that?” 

He pouted.  “No.  I’m the least sexy person in the history of the human race.” 

She grinned, and shook her head.  Desire gleamed in her eyes now.  “Oh, no, dear.  When that little tongue darts out between your lips when you’re nervous, it makes me want to kiss you.” 

He licked his lips.  “I don’t...”  He frowned.  “Do I?” 

She nodded.  “And when you start talking about something that arouses your intellect, stirs your passions, I want to shag you madly.  Do you know that?” 

He started to feel better.  “You do?” 

“Watching your hands fondle an artifact is almost a religious experience.  It makes me want to feel those hands touching _me_ like that.” 

“It does?”  He was beginning to feel some hope that he wasn’t just ‘sweet.’  Maybe he really was sexy, after all. 

“You’re a very passionate man, Daniel Jackson, and when you’re distracted by some weighty, meaningful thing that you’re thinking about, all but oblivious to what’s happening around you, you’re so cute I could just—“ 

“Cute?  I’m _cute?”_  That was the height of insult to his manly dignity. 

Shannon pressed her body against him, scratching his back lightly through his shirt with her nails.  She wriggled her pelvis against him and eased her mouth close to his, close enough to feel her breath on his lips. 

“Cute is _incredibly_ sexy to women, love.  Cute will get you forgiveness for just about any bloody thing.  And cute will get you in my pants in a heartbeat.  _If_ that’s where you want to be.” 

She growled softly at him.  She only did that when she was really, really aroused. 

He took a quick breath and almost smiled.  “Cute is good,” he agreed brightly and let his hands slide down her back to her buttocks.  He squeezed happily.  “So do you want to—“ 

She was already unfastening his shirt.  A button popped off when it wouldn’t come undone fast enough, and in moments she had him down on the floor, too busy to think about whether his striptease had been a success or a failure.

 

* * *

 

#####  _Ancient Egypt_

_Anubis held the boy’s hand, smiling down into those eyes, so like his mother’s.  “Come, Harsesis,” he invited warmly.  “I shall introduce you to the great god Ra.”_

_He showed the boy the symbols for the world where the Supreme System Lord held court, and stepped through the other side with head high.  The black and gold finery identified him to all who saw them, and the people bowed down before them.  
_

_“You see, my son, how we are worshiped.”  
_

_The boy studied his father.  “Are they not people like us?” he asked innocently.  
_

_“Yes, and no,” Anubis explained patiently.  “For we have knowledge that makes us far greater.”  
_

_“Can we not share this knowledge with them?”  
_

_“Would you have them be our equals, my son?  Who would serve us, then?  Who would worship us?”  Anubis smiled and shook his head.  “You are young yet, and there is much you do not understand.  All will be made clear as you learn the ways of the gods.”  
_

_Child and adult strolled out of the bright, hot sun into the cool, shaded interior of the temple of Ra.  Anubis knew from the presence of the Jaffa encased in the Horus and Anubis helmets that the Supreme Lord was at court and not elsewhere in the universe, maintaining order among those who served him.  The father pointed out to his son all the great histories in the murals as they passed, described the architecture and how the buildings were put together.  He answered every question the intelligent child asked, and finally they arrived at the great hall.  
_

_Anubis waited to be announced and welcomed, and at the proper time, entered the audience hall with the boy’s hand held lightly in his own.  He dropped to one knee and bowed in obeisance, and Harsesis copied him, a fraction of a second behind him in his movements.  He straightened and took his son by the shoulders, his face composed to show not a hint of the pride he felt.  Emotions could be weapons, and in the court of the gods there were always intrigues that could leave one vulnerable unless one was careful.  
_

_“Great Ra, I present to you a gift,” Anubis intoned.  “This child was made from those who host the gods Anubis and Egeria.  His name is Harsesis, and he carries the memories of those who made him, as do the children of the Goa’uld.”  
_

_Ra’s face was covered by the gold headdress that he wore at court, offering no hint of how this gift was received.  The Supreme Lord reached out an elegant hand and curled his fingers. “Come, Harsesis,” he said gently.  “Tell me what you know of the Goa’uld.”  
_

_Anubis listened as the child explained, his heart bursting with love and pride.  
_

_Ra’s hand reached up to touch a jewel on the headdress, and it folded away into the collar around his neck to reveal his face.  His expression was set, his mouth pressed into a firm white line.  His eyes glowed momentarily as he stared at the boy, waiting for him to finish his recitation.  Ra’s hands trembled as he reached for the little one and pulled him into his lap.  
_

_Then he raised his eyes to Anubis, and the god of death felt the chill of fear shoot through him.  He wanted to snatch the child and run, but the Jaffa surrounding the throne would kill them both.  Anubis stood rooted to the spot, rock steady with terror he could not afford to show, and watched in horror as Ra seized a knife from his belt and plunged it into the child’s chest.  He carved out the boy’s heart and squeezed it in his hand, dropping the body on the dais as he stood and raised his voice to proclaim that no Goa’uld would ever again breed their host bodies; that such offspring were an abomination and should henceforth be called Harsesis. They were not to be suffered to live.  
_

_Anubis eyed Ra evenly, not looking at the body of his dead son.  He waited for the old god’s rage to pass, and after Ra had washed his hands and seen the body taken away to be burned, he offered a smile to his visitor.  
_

_“I forgive your ignorance,” Ra said gently.  “You will send for Egeria and bring her here.  Both of you will attend me at court, and you will return to your wife.”  
_

_Anubis bowed his head and said nothing.  
_

_“Tell me,” Ra inquired casually.  “Has Egeria produced Goa’uld offspring?”  
_

_The mating flashed through Anubis’s mind, heated and passionate, followed by a desperate coupling of the hosts.  “She has, my lord.  Even now our young grow strong within our Jaffa.”  
_

_“I would have all of your court come to pay homage to me, Anubis,” Ra ordered lightly.  He smiled.   
_

_Anubis recognized the velvet threat instantly.  He bowed deeply.  “I will arrange it, my lord.  I shall return straight away through the_ chaapa’ai—“ _  
_

_“You will stay here,” countered Ra sternly.  “You will send for your mistress and her Jaffa, and have them come to you.”  
_

_“I have come alone, certain of welcome at your court,” Anubis returned politely.  “I have brought no servants to carry the message.”  
_

_“Then I will send one of my guard to order Egeria here.”  Ra glared, white-eyed, at his visitor.  “You knew she was to be mine, Anubis.  I was to father her children.  All of them, not just the first.  As Supreme Lord of the Goa’uld, the right to seed all queens belongs to me.”   
_

_Anubis cocked his head.  “The right to choose mates belongs to the queens, does it not?” he asked smoothly.  “Does not Hathor lie with whichever male she wishes, as pleases her?”  
_

_Ra’s face reflected his disgust.  “Hathor is not Egeria.  She was to be mine.”   
_

_“She has chosen me.”  Anubis bowed again, this time remaining on one knee.  “Send for her, my lord.  If she does not come, perhaps you will send me to fetch her.”  
_

_The rattle of golden bracelets accompanied Ra’s gesture of silence.  “Rooms will be prepared for you in my palace, Anubis.  Be gone from my sight, until you stand here with Egeria.”  
_

_Bowing even lower, Anubis placed his left palm on the dais at Ra’s feet.  He made sure his fingers came in contact with the blood of Harsesis, and as he rose, he placed that hand over his heart, leaving a stain on his golden garment.  He raised his eyes to Ra’s, to make sure the message was sent and received.  
_

_You have killed my son, Ra. I will hate you forever…  
_

 

“Noooo!” Daniel sat straight up in bed, panting in the wake of the dream. 

“Baby, what is it?” Shannon asked, sitting up beside him. 

“Anubis,” he answered breathlessly, unwilling to elaborate. 

Her arms were around him instantly, her hands stroking his face and his hair, her love enveloping him in a cocoon of protection.  She didn’t tell him it would be all right or mouth other words that would be empty but comforting.  All she offered was the grace of her presence and her constant support. 

“Can I help?” 

He pressed his face against the curve of her neck and carried her down to the pillows. 

“No, honey.  No one can help me with this.” 

He lay on his side, his body pressed up against hers, one arm around her waist, he could not close his eyes as the pictures flashed in his mind. 

Snatches of conversations from thousands of years ago left him breathless and ill. 

He couldn’t sleep with all that happening in his head. 

Shannon’s hand took his, and she moved it down to her rounded belly.  She sighed into sleep and grew still, but Daniel lay wide-eyed on the pillow in the near-darkness, breathing in the scent of her hair, and the lingering perfume of sex they had shared earlier in the evening. 

He tried to blot out the images, but they continued to come, pushing him closer to panic. 

Something moved beneath his palm.  He felt it, and eased half upright, squinting at the shape of her in the moonlight, as if he might see beneath the covers.  He had excellent night vision due to his abnormally large pupils, and even with the little bit of light filtering in through the curtains, he could see her plainly. 

It shifted again, just the slightest flutter beneath his palm, and he smiled. 

“Shannon, wake up,” he whispered.  “The baby moved.” 

She continued to dream, undisturbed, and he let her. 

Suddenly, all thoughts of Anubis vanished as if they had never been. 

The baby continued to jiggle slightly, and he smiled in the night. 

“My baby,” he breathed, arguing with the ghost.  “This is _my_ baby.  Ours.” 

He kissed her bare shoulder, and lay down again on his pillow. 

His eyes closed, and before he realized what was happening, he was sliding back into peaceful sleep, untroubled by the specter that haunted him, because there was something wonderful in the way, a light in his darkness that would keep him safe from the evil that he carried around in his soul.

* * *

**13 October**

 

“Who is the Mandanu?” Daniel asked the otherwise empty room. 

He sat at his desk with a dozen books open all around him, glancing between references and thinking.  He let his mind wander and closed his eyes, seeking some kind of intuition, anything that might illuminate who this mythical being might be. 

The Ancients had charged him with finding the Mandanu, and he was clueless where to even begin. 

_Shetat._

The word was barely a whisper in his subconscious, but he chased after it, closing his eyes to concentrate. 

_Who is it?_ he mused in his head.   _Shetat_ _means ‘hidden.’_   _Where is he hidden?_

_We have been searching for centuries for the Hidden One.  We will find him, and we will destroy him._

“Not if the Tau’ri find him first, asshole,” Daniel murmured aloud. _  
_

_Even then,_ the voice in his mind answered _.  You are_ weak _.  You cannot stop gods!_

“You’re not fucking gods,” he argued.  “You’re parasites pretending to be gods.” 

A soft ripple of laughter shimmered through his mind.

 _Then why are you talking to a memory?  I am dead, remember?_

Daniel opened his eyes.

 _Or am I?_

Daniel leaped up from his chair, backing halfway across the room, breathing hard, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

“Stop it!” he shouted.  “Leave me alone!” 

He put his hands to his head and whirled around, searching for an anchor to sanity. 

There were only books and artifacts of peoples long dead. 

He hurried out into the hallway, elbows winged outward, shoulders hunched up around his ears, eyes wide with terror.  Straight for the elevator he went, all the way down to Archives, sweating and trembling as he sought out the familiar and the true. 

Shannon was sitting at her desk, talking into the microphone for her computer, not taking notice of her visitor until he was almost upon her. 

Daniel pulled her out of her chair roughly, holding her hard against him. 

“You’re shaking, love,” she said worriedly.  “What’s wrong?” 

“Hold me,” he begged.  “Just hold me.  I need you.” 

“I’m here.”  Her arms went around him, her hands stroking over his back and shoulders.  She didn’t ask any more questions, just waited. 

When he pulled away, he kissed her and stroked her hair, avoiding her eyes. 

“Thanks, honey.”  He turned away and started back for the elevator, this time at an unhurried pace. 

Then he pivoted on his heel and swept her up in his arms again, kissing her fiercely, hungrily. 

Without opening his eyes, he broke free of her lips and hovered closely, her face in his hands, his forehead pressed to hers. 

“It’s Anubis,” he whispered.  “I’m so scared, Shannon!  I thought the worst was over, but it’s not.  It’s not, and I don’t know what to do.” 

He pulled away a little and risked looking into her eyes.  He didn’t want to see fear, that she was afraid of him.  Daniel was afraid enough of himself… or whatever it was still living inside him. 

“We’ll get through it together,” she promised.  Her eyes were haunted, filled with pain… pain she felt for him.  “I’ll always be here for you, Danny.  Always.  No matter what.” 

That reassurance helped.  He took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back with his hands.  “I need to get this cut short again,” he observed idly, stroking through his mane again nervously. 

“I like it long,” Shannon assured him.  She offered a tiny smile and slipped one arm around his waist.  “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” 

“Talk,” he repeated mechanically, looking down into her eyes. 

_Green eyes, like emeralds. Dark auburn hair, sliding through his fingers, lit with copper fire. For a moment, her face blurred into the image of another woman, long dead, whom he had loved..._

“No, not me,” he said softly.  “Anubis.  Anubis loved her.  Egeria.  He loved Egeria.” 

Shannon’s arm tightened about his waist.  “He loved someone?”  Tears filled her eyes and were blinked away. 

“She looked a little like you,” Daniel observed.  “You remind me of her.” 

Fear glimmered in her eyes, mixed with the mist of forming tears.

He felt his insides curdle.  “I’m scaring you, too.  Aren’t I?” 

“Maybe we should go see Doctor Romani,” she suggested.  “Together.”  Walking with him, she guided him toward the elevator. 

He broke away from her, caught her by the wrist and towed her behind him, walking briskly toward a storage room in the back.  He flung open the door and slammed it closed behind them, rounded on her and snarled in her face, his voice husky and deep, not quite his own. 

“A god does not need a confidant, Egeria!  I will seek no counsel but my own.” 

He stared at her, and the image blurred again, back to the present. 

Shannon’s eyes were black with fear.  “Daniel,” she said softly, gently.  “I’m here for you.  I’m not afraid of you.  I know you won’t hurt me.” 

But as he let go of her arm, he saw that she was rubbing her wrist, and he was horrified.  “I _did_ hurt you.  Shannon, I—“ 

He bolted, heading for the door at a run.  She got in front of him and barred the way with her body, splaying herself against the door.  A glimmer of fear was still there, but her voice rang with strength and authority.

“Don’t you run away from me, Daniel Jackson!” she ordered.  “Stay here with me.  Just for a little while.” 

“I might hurt you,” he argued, his voice thick with pain. He hugged himself.  “Again.” 

“No.  You won’t.  I know you, love.  You’re a good man.  A _gentle_ man.  You don’t like hurting people.”  Her gaze was steady and sure, unwavering.  “And if Anubis truly loved Egeria, he wouldn’t hurt her, either.  Would he.” 

That wasn’t a question.  It was a statement, something she had seen in his eyes. 

He shook his head.  “No.  He would never have hurt her.  Not intentionally.  Not when he had a choice.” 

She reached out for him, but he backed away.  “Don’t be afraid, Danny.  Don’t push me away.”  Shannon continued to hold out her hands to him.  “Give me your hand, love.  Touch me here.”  She patted the barely rounded shape of her abdomen. 

He came forward, dropping to his knees and burying his face against the swell.  His arms went around her swollen waist.  His breath caught in his throat. 

_Lying beside her, his hands smoothing over her rounded belly, reveling in her laughter as they kissed and played with each other in their bed.  His heart so filled with love, with happiness, that it nearly killed him._

_She was beauty incarnate, passion made flesh._

_She was Egeria..._

 

“No!  My wife is Shannon!” he cried, squeezing his eyes shut.  “I can’t shut it out.  I don’t want to see this...  Oh, God, make it stop!” 

She knelt in his embrace, her arms fastening around his shoulders.  “Let it come, Daniel,” she murmured, pulling his head into the crook of her neck.  “Anubis loved her. Maybe this is something important for you to know.” 

“I already know how it ends,” he whimpered, his voice breaking.  “Ra murdered their son, right in front of him.  He murdered a child.  The first Harsesis.  That’s why they were forbidden to the Goa’uld – because Anubis and Egeria made the first one together.  They loved each other, host and symbiote both, and they both had children together.” 

Daniel sat back on his heels and buried his face in his hands.  His whole body shook.  His throat was closing up.  He felt sick. 

“What happened to the children of the symbiotes?” Shannon’s face was pale.  She sat down beside him, sliding her arm across his shoulders, pulling him close. 

“They’re the Tok’ra,” he whispered hoarsely.  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes and nose.  “Egeria hid them from me... _him_.  From Anubis.  From Ra.  After he killed...  Anubis’ son.  We knew for a long time that Egeria was their mother, but nobody asked who the father was.  We assumed it was Ra, but it wasn’t.  It was Anubis.  Me.” 

“ _Not_ you, Danny.  But maybe because they loved each other, that’s why the Tok’ra are good.  Maybe that’s what makes them different from the Goa’uld.”  Shannon’s arms wrapped around him, fiercely protective.  She rocked him as if he were a wounded child, and she whispered and murmured sweet words of encouragement to him, but she didn’t say the words he most needed to hear. 

He pulled back, ignoring the hair in his eyes, and studied her face. 

“Say it, Shannon.  Please.  I need to hear it.” 

Tears misted her eyes and were blinked away.  Her smile was fragile, brave.  “I do love you, Daniel Jackson.  I have for a long time, now.” 

He studied her, how utterly vulnerable she was at that moment.  Her heart was wide open to him.  “When did you know?” 

Wonder crept into her eyes.  The smile warmed and broadened slightly.  “Are you sure you want to know?” 

“Yeah.  I do.” 

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Her eyes lowered to his lap, and she took his left hand in hers, stroking her thumb over the wedding band on his third finger.  “When you kissed me the first time. You moved the world, darlin’. I was never the same after that.” 

He remembered how much effort he’d put into making it his best kiss ever.  Daniel reached for her, pulled her close and reprised that moment, his heart melting inside him. 

“I love you, Shannon Jackson,” he murmured against her lips. 

She pressed him back against the floor, and he let her have her way with him, not caring if anyone walked in on them.  They were married, after all, and he’d just been through a crisis.  She was helping him recover, taking his mind off... his mind. 

And for a while, he didn’t want to think about anything. 

All he wanted to do was feel.

 

* * *

 

 **16 October**

Jack sat down on the sofa and leaned forward, elbows on knees.  “You doin’ all right, Doc?” he asked conversationally. 

Romani nodded. “It’s great to be back on my feet again.”  He paused and closed a folder he’d been working on, then got up and came to sit on the chair across from the couch.  “What did you want to talk about, Colonel?  I haven’t had a chance to review the report from your last mission.” 

Clearing his throat, Jack looked at his hands.  “How’s Daniel doing?  I mean, from your standpoint as a shrink. What you’re allowed to share with me, anyway.” 

“He’s coping,” the psychiatrist answered brusquely.  “Some days are better than others, but on the whole, I think he’s okay.  Did something happen?” 

“Yeah, well, see… that’s the thing.”  Jack got up and stuck his hands into his pants pockets, pacing the floor with his head down, remembering.  “We spent most of the last week on some planet or other, looking at ruins and old crap.  Not the sort of thing that floats my boat, so I just watched out for everyone else.  That’s what I do.” 

Romani sat patiently waiting, following the other man with his eyes. 

“I was on watch that first night on bivouac.  Daniel was sleeping.  I saw him get up out of his sleeping bag and start walking.  He had this spaced look on his face, like he wasn’t there, you know?” 

“Sleepwalking?” 

“Yeah.  That’s what I thought, so I just followed him.  He went back to the Stargate and started dialing.  When the thing engaged, he woke up and wanted to know what the hell he was doing there.” 

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck nervously.  “I’ve known Daniel for a long time now, and I’ve never known him to do that before.  He’s a light sleeper, doesn’t snore or talk in his sleep, either.  Sleeps like a soldier.” 

He paused, thinking.  “That’s about the _only_ thing he does like a soldier.” 

“So this behavior was out of character.” 

“Royally.”  He returned to his seat on the couch and leaned on his knees again, hands clasped lightly in front of him.  “He did it a couple more times during the mission, but I’d told Carter and Teal’c to be on guard, just keep an eye on him, but not to let him go through the ‘gate.  Teal’c had to stop him, and Daniel clocked the big guy before he woke up.” 

“It’s not a good idea to wake a sleepwalker.” 

“That’s not the worst of it.”  Jack held his head in his hands and sighed.  “He told Teal’c he’d kill him if he tried to interfere again.  That wasn’t _Daniel_ talking.  I mean, it was his voice, but Daniel would never talk like that to anybody, _especially_ to one of his teammates.” 

“It was Anubis.”  Romani nodded.  He sighed.  “I’ve been working with Doctor Jackson on this, so there’s a lot of privileged material I can’t discuss with you, but as his CO, I know you’re wanting to know if he’s becoming a threat to your team.” 

“Yeah.”  Jack raised his eyes to the other man’s face.  He hurt inside, wondering privately if Daniel needed to be locked up. 

“Where did he dial out to?” 

Jack shrugged.  “I wrote down the address so we could check it out later.  He dialed the same place every time.  We haven’t had a chance to investigate yet.” 

“I think it’ll be important to find out the significance of this place to Anubis,” Romani told him evenly.  “I doubt Daniel was aware of any of it.  He was probably sleepwalking, as you guessed.”  He sat quietly for a moment, apparently considering what to say.  “But to answer your question, I don’t think he’s a danger to anyone.  Daniel is a gentle person who abhors violence, even though he understands that it’s necessary at times, considering the missions you undertake.” 

He stared at the tablet on his slap for a moment. 

“This is difficult to put into words, Colonel.” 

Romani rose and strolled back toward his desk. “Though the symbiote and its host have two separate brains, when they become blended, as the Tok’ra call it, there is a great deal of the mental process that the two beings share thereafter.  From what I’ve read of the Tok’ra, it seems that voluntary hosting creates a permanent bond between the two, and after talking to Doctor Jackson, he went a long way toward accepting Anubis into his mind while trying to find a way to control him, or rather, to regain control of his own body.” 

Jack closed his eyes.  His heart sank.  “Ah, Jeez, no!  He _blended_ with Anubis.” 

“Not completely,” Romani assured him.  He turned around to face his guest and leaned his buttocks against the desktop.  “Not as I understand the Tok’ra would do it.  There was a great deal that Daniel shut out, but what he took in has left… a lasting impression.  It’s more than just memories that he shares with Anubis, as far as I’m able to tell.  Part of the symbiote’s consciousness has been transferred into Daniel’s mind.” 

Sitting perfectly still, Jack realized he was clenching his hands so hard they hurt.  He relaxed his grip and reminded himself to breathe.  “So he _is_ a danger to us.  To _all_ of us.” 

“If I thought he were, I’d have already told you and General Hammond.”  Romani resumed his seat, leaning forward to touch Jack on the knee and get him to open his eyes.  “Colonel, he’s still Daniel Jackson.  He’s in control, except for rare moments like you’ve just experienced on bivouac.  And even then, Daniel would be aware enough to prevent his harming anyone, even in his sleep.” 

“You might wanna discuss that with Teal’c,” Jack ground out.  “Daniel may not be such a good fighter, but Anubis obviously knew how to brawl with the best of ‘em, and for all his geekiness, Daniel’s got a strong build.  He packs quite a punch when he’s riled.  I can vouch for that personally.” 

“That was more likely a primal reaction to being awakened during sleepwalking,” Romani reminded him.  “People have shown extremely violent reactions to that sort of sudden stimulus.  Some even committed murder while in that state.” 

“Oh, _that’s_ comforting,” Jack snarled.  “Just let him sleepwalk wherever he wants.  Right through the Stargate into Gou’ald Central.” 

“We don’t know where he was heading, Colonel, and he can be hobbled off world, or you can try shorter missions that don’t require overnight stays.  There are options.  What I’m saying is that, in my professional opinion, Daniel poses no threat to his team.  He may just be a little inconvenient for a while.” 

“Inconvenient,” Jack repeated, aware how incredulous he must look as he stared back at the shrink.  “So is this gonna stop at some point?” 

“It’s been several months since the implantation and exorcisim – I guess that’s a good word – occurred, and he’s just now beginning this sleepwalking,” Romani told him.  “He’s gone through periods where Anubis is quiet and he doesn’t even think about what happened.  Now, it seems, the other consciousness is vying for attention.  We simply need to find out why.” 

“And how do we do that?” 

Romani smiled.  “That’s _my_ job, Colonel.  I’ll be seeing Daniel later today.  I’ll keep you posted on anything relating to your team or Daniel’s fitness for duty, but otherwise, you’ll just need to trust me to handle this.” 

Jack eyed him suspiciously.  “So I don’t need to mention this to Hammond?” 

“I’m sure you’ll be mentioning it in your mission report,” said Romani.  “That should be enough.  You should also mention that you spoke with me about it, and that I haven’t changed Daniel’s duty status.  Yet.” 

“Oh, I feel _so_ much better, Doc.”  Jack’s voice dripped with sarcasm.  “I’m glad we had this chat.”  He started to get up. 

“Colonel, this is hard for everyone he’s close to,” Romani assured him.  “Hardest of all for Daniel.  He’s afraid for his sanity, and I have my hands full assuring him that his _sanity_ isn’t in question here.  The other voice he hears is real, not a schizophrenic or psychotic break with reality. He has no mental illness issues here. Please, try to see him as the friend you’ve known for so long, not as a wolf in sheep’s clothing.  He’s _not_ Anubis, and you have no reason to fear he’ll turn on you.” 

“No reason.”  Jack stood up.  His training in Special Ops declared otherwise.  It was ingrained behavior, and he had a hard time not taking the deviation in Daniel’s behavior as anything but a warning sign that things were rotten in Denmark.  “You talk to him today, and then meet with me again tomorrow.  We’ll see if anything’s changed.” 

“If it has, I’ll call you immediately.  You won’t have to wait.” 

“That’s good.”  He turned toward the door. 

“Sit down, Colonel.” 

“Is that an order, Major?” 

“In this room it’s ‘Doctor,’ and that outranks your ‘Colonel.’ ” 

For a moment, Jack stood still, just staring at Romani, surprised by that sudden authoritative tone of voice.  He sat down.  “Now what?” 

“Now, it’s _your_ turn.”  Romani said sternly.  “Doctor MacKenzie has officially transferred you to my care, and I think we need to get started on you.” 

“I’m fine.  Did somebody complain?”  Something inside him shriveled up. 

Romani’s stern look vanished, and he smiled.  “That’s beside the point.  You have issues that need working out.  I’ve read your file.” 

Jack sat very still. His insides tightened.  “Somebody really _did_ complain about me?” 

“Humor’s a great distraction in such capable hands,” Romani observed warmly, a bemused smile gracing his lips.  “You have a sharp wit and a brilliant mind that you go to great pains not to show.  Your reputation around here is that you’re a great officer, a real hard-ass, or a teddy bear, depending on who you ask.” 

_“Teddy bear?”_

“But nobody sees the _real_ Jack O’Neill, do they?” 

Jack looked down at his hands again, certain that this man was going to take him apart piece by piece, and see the mess that he kept so carefully hidden.  He sighed.  “I don’t wanna do this, Romani.  I _need_ my armor.” 

“You need it in the _field_ , Colonel.  You don’t need it between you and the world you live in, and you especially don’t need it between you and the people you love.  You’re letting the job stand between Jack O’Neill and the people who need him most.” 

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He nodded, the realization sitting like a lump in his belly.  “Like Daniel.” 

“ _Especially_ Daniel.  You’re looking at him like the soldier you’ve been trained to be, and he needs you to see him with the eyes of a friend.” 

Three faces flashed through his mind, each of them looking to him for direction.  He closed his eyes and remembered them in his home, relaxed and off duty, but seeing him exactly the same way, separated from them by the uniform.  That was always between them.  _Always_. 

It was the buffer between him and the whole universe, the only terms he could accept.  He had forgotten how to just be a man long ago, long before Sara and Charlie, though there had been times he’d been able to take the BDUs off with them. 

Not since the accident, though. 

He had put the uniform on then and never taken it off again. 

“This is going to hurt a lot, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.  He searched that compassionate face and saw understanding there. 

“Yes, Jack.  It’s going to hurt more than you ever want to hurt again.  But when we’re finished—“ 

“I know.  I’ll be free.”  He sighed.  “You really know how to knock a guy off balance, don’t you, Doc?” 

Romani smiled.  “You’re good at what you do, Colonel.  I like to think I’m good at what I do, and that’s part of the method.  Psychiatry has tactics and strategies, too.” 

“Kinda like the art of _compassionate_ war.” 

“Engarde, Colonel.  Why don’t we start with your family?” 

“Which one?  Born into or married into?” 

“You pick.  This is your time.” 

Jack took a deep breath and considered, wondering how much bullshit he could shovel before this guy caught him, but somehow, he found himself not wanting to go that route.  This guy had seen through everything Jack had thrown at him, and he respected that.  MacKenzie had never gotten this far with him. 

“I loved my wife,” he began, remembering how he had shut her out when Charlie died. 

He opened his mouth and let it all come, watching Romani’s response as he started dismantling the armor, one tiny piece at a time.

 

* * *

 

Jack answered the knock on his door with guitar in hand. 

Daniel eased past him, not waiting for an invitation, and headed for the living room. 

“Den,” Jack corrected, and closed the door.  He followed the younger man in and watched him fall heavily onto the sofa without removing his jacket. 

“Did Romani take me off active duty?” Daniel asked flatly. 

For an instant, Jack was surprised the other man knew he’d been to see the shrink.  “Nope.  He said I should trust you.  That hasn’t changed.” 

Reaching inside his jacket, Daniel pulled out a black journal, one with a simple brass lock on its cover, key already inserted into it. 

He handed it to his host as Jack resumed his seat in the easy chair. 

“Then maybe you should have a look at this.  I figured, with what’s been going on with me lately, you should have a better knowledge base before you decide I’m fit for duty.” 

Jack eyed the book suspiciously.  “That’s your Anubis journal, isn’t it?  You sure you want me to read what’s in there?” 

Daniel’s watch beeped.  “I’d rather you saw it than Romani.  For now, anyway.” 

He rose and pulled a bottle of pills from his pants pocket.  “You read. I’m gonna loot your fridge so I can take my meds.”  He left for the kitchen. 

“Help yourself to everything but the booze,” Jack called after him, and turned the little brass key in the lock.  Laying that aside, he set the guitar on the coffee table and opened to the first page. 

Most of that was Daniel griping about having to keep the stupid journal in the first place.  Jack scanned through the diatribe and felt a chill pass through him as he noted the next entry.  The handwriting was different, messier than Daniel’s neat script. 

And the entry was made in first person, from Anubis writing with Daniel’s hand. 

Part of Jack was aware of the noises he heard in the kitchen – dishes rattling, cabinet doors opening and closing, liquid pouring, rummaging in the refrigerator, but the rest of his mind was fixed squarely on the text written in that foreign hand. 

On more than one occasion, he had to rub his eyes to wipe away tears.  Nausea gripped him and didn’t let go.  Jack had experience as a battle hardened soldier, bearing witness firsthand to the horrors of war and depravity, but the things he saw in that book left him sweating and shaking as he turned the last page. 

Jack raised his eyes to the other man now seated on his sofa, calmly munching on a sandwich and swallowing his Welbutrin with a swig of milk, straight from the three-quarters empty jug. 

The smell of food sickened Jack, but he gave no hint of it in his face. 

He forced his hands to be steady as he closed the journal and laid it on the table. 

“I think Romani needs to read through that,” he observed.  “And you can tell our old buddy Anubis he needs to take a handwriting course.” 

Daniel didn’t look up, keeping his manner carefully nonchalant.  “You just told him yourself.  So do I retire from the field, Jack?” 

Jack’s stomach made audible protest.  “I knew Anubis was bad news from all the stuff I read while you were recuperating, right after we brought you back.” 

He leaned forward and pulled the guitar into his lap, letting go a shaky breath. 

“But I never imagined anything _that_ bad.  Jesus, Daniel!  I can’t believe you’ve been trying to deal with this on your own.” 

“Well, it’s not like I can exorcise my personal demon and send him to Romani, much as I’d love to,” Daniel snapped irritably. 

“No,” Jack returned patiently, “but you could let Romani try to help what’s left of Anubis—“ 

“He’s all about the pain, Jack,” Daniel growled.  “That’s all that’s left of him.  He was in unimaginable physical agony for a thousand years, but before that—“ 

“I know,” Jack said, cutting him off before he elaborated. 

The death of Harsesis had been graphically recounted and brought up vivid memories of Charlie, bleeding and dying in his arms.  Hatred had poisoned Anubis, and after such a horror, Jack understood a little better why the Goa’uld had gone so bad. 

He also understood the burden Daniel now carried, having to deal with those memories as if they were his own, as if the atrocities that followed had been committed with his own hands.  “You were a _witness_ , Daniel.  Another _victim_.  That’s all.” 

The other man set the remains of his sandwich down on the plate.  “So what do I do?  Where do I go from here?  It would be safer for the rest of the team for me to bow out now.” 

“You’re not a danger to us,” Jack insisted.  “I’m more certain of that now than I was before I read all that.” 

“How can you be so sure?”  Daniel leveled him with a gaze that was at once suspicious and hopeful. 

Jack pondered how best to answer that.  “Because I _get_ Anubis now.  Maybe that’s because I’m standing outside looking in and you’ve got a whole different perspective, but I see what he wanted.  And maybe you can give it to him.” 

“I can’t give him anything, Jack.  He’s dead.”  Daniel frowned.  “Sort of.” 

“That’s my point.  His ghost isn’t going to fade quietly away, because you made him part of you.  Permanently.  Your only hope of laying the old devil to rest is to give him absolution.” 

He picked idly at the strings on the instrument in his lap, making sure the sound was soft, not intrusive. 

“How do I do that?  I can’t forgive him for all the things he did.  Especially not while I was his host.” Jackson’s eyes were staring, unfocused, seeing nothing. He was a million light years away. 

“I don’t know, Daniel.  That’s more Romani territory than anything O’Neill is familiar with.”  He glanced down at Rosebud.  “Maybe it’s time you learned to sing the blues.  We never did get to that music lesson.  Whaddya say?” 

“Nice segue,” the visitor shot back, “but I’m tired, Jack.  I think I’ll walk home and go to bed.” 

“Hang out for a while.  You can bunk in the spare room, and I’ll call Smurf and tell her you’re staying.  We’ll sing a little.  I can impress you with my guitar work.”  His fingers danced across the strings in an elegant little Flamenco flourish. 

Daniel hesitated.  He stared at the remains of his sandwich.  “You can give the journal to Romani for me.  I don’t think I can.” 

Jack nodded.  “Let’s start with something simple.  _Ain’t No Sunshine_ , by Bill Withers.  I’ll go through it once, and then you can try it with me on the second pass.” 

“Why do you want me to sing?” 

“Catharsis, my skeptical friend,” Jack replied.  “Betcha didn’t think I knew a word that big, didja?” 

“Which reminds me – we also never talked about what the Asgard left in your head.  You wanna delve into that tonight, too?” 

“If you’re not too tired when we finish singin’ the blues.” 

Jack grinned at him and started the first chords.  _“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone…”_

He lost himself in the song, and when it was over, he glanced at his guest.  “It helps, Daniel.  Bleed a little of that pain away, and it’s not so big you can’t carry it.” 

His fingers stilled on the strings for a moment.  “And if it gets to be more than you can handle alone, you know where I am.” 

“Yeah, Jack.  One day, you’ll know all my secrets.” 

That was the perfect opening for Jack to deliver one of his own that had been haunting him of late.  Remembering his session with Romani earlier in the day, he plucked idly at the strings and started talking, letting his memory of the Iraqi prison camp flow out of his mouth, along with the pain he’d kept bottled up inside him for years. 

Daniel deserved to know what that had been like for him, that he could sympathize with being imprisoned.  He had hinted at knowledge of addiction to the younger man, but never explained what the Iraqis had done to him to extract knowledge, how they had forced him into a rampant heroin addiction and then made him suffer through withdrawal as torture to get him to talk.

That had been what had inspired him to escape in the end, but he had never talked about it with anyone. 

Until now. 

When he finished, he picked up the tune again and listened as Daniel raised his voice and closed his eyes, and expressed his pain with intimate understanding of what it meant to sing the blues.  On their third run through the song, they did it as a duet, working on technique and sharpening the sound until well into the night, when both men were drained and flagging. 

They parted in silence, comfortable enough with each other so that such finalities were unnecessary between them.

Jack gazed out the window until Daniel’s image faded into the blackness of night, heading for the trees that separated their yards.

Then he rose, put Rosebud away and trundled off to bed.

 

* * *

**October 15  
**

Three miles from the ‘gate, Jack felt irritation with himself creeping up to intolerable levels. He forced his eyes away from Logan’s attractive backside to the terrain, trying to keep his mind on track. Inevitably, his gaze would be drawn to her shape and he would find himself daydreaming, or studying her. 

She was observant as she walked, taking note of vegetation she passed, her eyes scanning the treeline and above, into the canopy of leaves overhead.  There was a serenity in her that drew him like a lodestone when she was off-world like this.

He watched her pull a leaf from a bush, crush it beneath her nose and sniff it, committing the scent to memory. 

She did things like that, identifying things and exploring, wherever she went.  Even now, when she was on guard against attack and ready with one hand on her P-90, she was interested in her surroundings and learning everything she could about this alien world. 

She was amazing. 

Jack pulled a leaf from the same bush and smelled it.  The plant had a cinnamony scent, pleasant but biting to the nose.  It made his eyes water a little, and he blinked them clear before turning to scan the forested horizon. 

They had brought Logan along at Daniel’s insistence, since the ruins they had found were Asian-oriented and her expertise outstripped his in that field.  She was the SGC’s resident expert on the Far East, and they had spent nearly a week at the site.  They had some interesting information to take home, but still nothing to help them fight the Goa’uld. 

Jack was finding it harder to deal with Logan, growing more and more frustrated with her, though she seemed quite content to take whatever affection he dished out.  If he ignored her, she was fine with that, too.  If he took her to his house and made out with her for hours, she was happy then as well. 

It annoyed the hell out of him. 

They made the trek back home, did the debriefing thing, and the guys headed for the locker room for showers and a change. 

Daniel was on his way home when Jack snagged him and nodded him toward his office. 

Once inside, Jack shut the door and started to pace. 

“Don’t ever bring Logan on another mission,” he snapped.  He ruffled his hands through his hair, leaving it standing on end in several places. 

“What’s the matter, Jack?” Daniel asked quietly.  “Stand still and look at me.” 

Jack kept pacing.  “She’s driving me nuts!” he ground out between clenched teeth. 

“So tell her.” 

“I can’t!” Jack rounded on him, roaring with frustration.  “All that comes out of my mouth is orders or wisecracks.  I’m not wired for that sort of thing.  You _know_ how I am.” 

He grimaced, hoping Daniel would connect the invisible dots in his subconscious and figure out what he wanted, what he needed, without his having to continue to struggle so damned hard to communicate. 

Daniel wandered close and put his hands on the other man’s shoulders, pinning him in place with those baby blues.  “Say,’I love you, Daniel.’“ 

Jack did a double-take and took a step backward, bumping into the door with his butt.  “Wha—what?” 

Grinning, the younger man insisted.  “Just trust me on this.  Say the words, Jack.  I already know you do, or you wouldn’t have put up with me for so long.” 

“Uh... well... you are a colossal pain in the ass.”  Jack had said those three important words all of once to Daniel, when he knew it had been absolutely necessary. 

At the moment, it wasn’t and the words wouldn’t come. 

His mouth moved randomly, genuinely trying, but nothing was happening.  Nor was it going to, looking his buddy in the eye as he was.  “Sorry.  Can’t do it.” 

“Could you hug me if you wanted to?” 

He thought about that.  Hugging was easier, but the whole situation felt kind of creepy.  “If I wanted to, yeah, but I don’t want to, and why don’t you step back about a room?” 

Daniel reached up and patted Jack’s cheek fondly before heading for the desk.  “The physical stuff is easier, I know.  You can touch her and tell her everything, but not with words.” 

“Well, yeah.  That’s the whole problem.”  He sighed, ruffling his hair again.  “God dammit, Daniel!  What do I do?  I see her walking in the woods and she’s so... something!  I don’t know.  But I feel it, and there’s this... thing...” 

His hands were waving all over the place, looking for something to grab onto that would help him express himself properly.  “I want to kiss her and... you know... and make her stop being so... that I can’t think.  I can’t do the job with her around.  She undresses my mind and it’s too small and cold to be left outside naked and alone.” 

He sighed and flopped down on the closest chair, slumping in defeat. 

Daniel reached into his desk, pulled out a small field journal and flipped it open.  He tore out the few pages that had been used, and handed the book over with a pen. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Jack demanded, eyeing the journal with distaste.  “I’m not a writer, either.  You’ve read my reports.” 

“ _Dripping_ with your excessive personality, yes,” Daniel agreed. 

He knocked on the desk and pointed to his face to get Jack to make eye contact. 

“Look, Jack, I like to think we know each other pretty well.  Something happened between us on Abydos that opened a door neither one of us can close.  I know I don’t want to close it.” 

He smiled softly.  “I’m closer to you than I’ve ever been to anyone, including my wife, which is kinda weird in its own way, but it’s also precious to me beyond measure.  I wouldn’t change that for the world.” 

Jack eased backward a little.  “You’re not gettin’ mushy on me, here, are you?  Cause if you are, I may have to kill you.” 

Laughing softly, Daniel shook his head.  His eyes were warm and filled with affection.  “You can read me better than anyone.  Stuff I’m not even conscious of telegraphs to you, and you pick up on it.  You’re always there when I fall, ready to pick me up again.” 

“Everything you feel is on your face, Daniel,” Jack returned softly.  “It doesn’t take any real skill or special relationship to see what’s going on in your head.  Or your heart.  And I’ve missed picking you up quite a few times, too.” 

Daniel shrugged.  “Not that I remember.  You don’t always listen, but you always _see_ , Jack.” 

He sighed, and his humor faded.  “It’s taken me some time to learn to read your signals, because you hide them so well.  When you’re scared, you get mean.  When you’re worried about somebody, you’re tough as nails.  And when you care, you get cranky.  Like now.” 

“I’m not cranky.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

“Are not.” 

“Are.” 

“Not.” 

Daniel flashed another brief smile.  “And you’re argumentative when somebody sees through your bullshit.” 

Jack said nothing.  The book in his hands threatened him with its blank pages.  “So?” 

“So, you need an _outlet_ , Jack.  All the things you want to say to Logan are backing up in your brain, and you’re starting to lash out.” 

“Am not...  Never mind.” 

“A very wise and beautiful lady once told me that these things make great confessors, and she was right.”  Daniel’s gaze wandered down to his desktop.  “She made me write a letter to my best friend, and tell him all the things I couldn’t say to his face.  It made me feel better, but it also bridged a gap between us when he read it a little while later.” 

Jack knew what he was talking about.  That letter in the diary from Siraket was in his safe at home.  Sometimes he took it out and read it again, just to remind himself of what he’d almost lost.  The pain and affection in it shamed him and made him feel honored all at the same time. 

“Write down what you feel, Jack,” Daniel advised sagely.  “Work on it till it says exactly what you want it to.  Maybe it might take years.  You might not even give it to her, but I can promise you that, if you do, you’ll never have to worry about losing her.  Which I can see you are.” 

He nodded.  “Yeah,” he rasped.  “Right now, she can take me or leave me.  I’m on the outside looking in, close enough to touch but worlds away from the real Seneca.  I want to be inside those walls she keeps up against the rest of the universe, but I don’t know how to get there, and if I don’t find the way soon, she’ll slip away from me.  Just like I lost Sara.” 

Daniel’s face brightened.  “So _that’s_ her name?  Wow.  I’d never have guessed.” 

“That’s the point and don’t you dare tell her I let it slip!” Jack waved a finger at him in stern warning.  “It’s a self protection thing, Daniel.  I mean it.  _Nobody_ can know her name.  Okay?” 

“I promise.  Not even Shannon.” 

Jack studied his friend for a moment.  Daniel’s face was so open, so honest that sometimes it hurt Jack to look at him.  That he would keep anything from the woman he’d committed his life and heart to was eloquent testimony to just how deep their friendship ran. 

There really _was_ a connection between them.  Jack knew it, and at times he’d hated it, but Daniel was a reminder of so many things – both painful and filled with joy – that Jack understood they were stuck with each other permanently. 

“Till death do us part, eh, Danny?” he said softly.  He didn’t have to be afraid Jackson would misunderstand. 

Daniel nodded.  “Yeah. Sometimes not even then, weird as that is for two straight guys.  I don’t know how else to figure it, but it works.” 

Jack pursed his lips and studied the little book in his hands.  He opened to the first blank page and saw where the other sheets had been torn out.  A pen appeared between his face and the journal, and he took it without thinking and put the point to the page, clueless where he should begin. 

“And Jack?” 

“Yes, Daniel?”  He didn’t look up from the page, still thinking. 

“Think with your heart, not with your dick.” 

That was so unexpectedly coarse a remark from Daniel Jackson’s mouth that Jack burst out laughing. 

Daniel patted his shoulder as he passed by the chair on the way to the office door. 

“Turn off the lights and close up when you’re done,” he ordered. 

“Yes, sir, Doctor Jackson,” Jack replied, still chuckling. 

He remembered Logan walking in the woods, and the sense of wonder he felt when he watched her crush a leaf under her nose, eyes scanning and alert for danger, body relaxed but ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice.  She was a velvet hammer, as hard or as soft as she needed to be. 

Logan was a warrior.  She was all woman, graceful and curvy in all the right places.  She was a goddess, and she had stolen his heart and laid him open to pain and pleasure such as he had never dreamed existed. 

The pen began to move, and when it lay still between his fingers, he flipped back to the beginning and began to read. 

“Damn, Jack,” he said to the empty room.  “You’re a fucking poet!  Who knew?” 

He rose and tossed the pen down on the desk, stuffing the book into the pocket of his trousers.  He glanced at the computer monitor, at the Egyptian figures dancing across the screen and smiled.  He shook his head in wonder as he headed for the light switch. 

_Daniel_ knew.  He had known it all along, not only what his friend needed to bridge an uncrossable gap, but also that there was something beautiful waiting to get out of the prison Jack had built around it. 

Jack had played dumb soldier for long enough.  If this little experiment of Jackson’s worked, he just might try letting a little of that out in a few reports, make them less mouthy and more descriptive.  He wasn’t a Hemingway by any stretch of the imagination, but when he let his dreams lead the way, he _could_ put his thoughts together coherently enough to speak his heart. 

He turned back to the darkened office, lit only by the glow from the computer monitor. 

“Thanks, Daniel,” he whispered, still smiling, and quietly closed the door. 

**_On to Chapter 6: Prophecy_ **


	6. Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel finally discovers who the Mandanu is, and is horrified to learn the legend's identity. Just as he is about to become a father, destiny brings tragedy and sorrow to his door in the most shocking manner, at the hands of Senator Kinsey.

**18 October**

 

The team stood in the embarkation room, watching the Stargate spin up, waiting for the wormhole to stabilize so they could leave on their latest mission.

Jack was resettling his black baseball cap on his head, smoothing the bill to just the right shape, the only sign of his internal disquiet. 

Teal’c stood still as a statue. 

Sam was checking her vest pockets, as she often did before leaving on a mission, and Daniel was staring at the ramp, his mind on problems at hand and memories from this past. 

Numerous teams had made contact with aliens scattered here and there, and on many of the planets, the word ‘ _Mandanu’_ was being spoken in hushed tones.  None of these worlds had connections with each other, aside from the Stargates they didn’t use.  All of them had discovered the word through prophecies, some old, some new.  Information was starting to accumulate, painting a slowly developing picture of the person for whom they were searching. 

“So, what does ‘Mandanu’ mean?” Sam asked Daniel, moving up beside him.  “I mean, I know the Ancients said you were supposed to find this guy, but you still haven’t told us what we’re looking for.”  

Daniel shrugged. 

Her eyebrows twitched together as she made eye contact with the Colonel.  “You know, sir, you seemed to understand a lot of what was going on with the Ancients, stuff that wasn’t really obvious. You wanna tell us about that?” 

Jack seemed to ignore her, addressing Daniel instead. “Did you translate the word it yet?” 

Daniel shook his head. “The only reference I can find is an Akkadian god of justice, and the details are so scarce as to be almost nonexistent. I don’t think we’re looking for a Goa’uld-type false god, a real person, though. It seems the prophecies have more to do with the concept of balance, but other than that, I haven’t made much progress.  So, no.  I still don’t know what it means, exactly.  All I know is, the Mandanu is a composite of the very best and very worst of his kind, both the most gentle and the most cruel of his people, someone who has lived at both ends of the spectrum of good and evil.  That’s not a lot to go on, at this point.” 

The wormhole stabilized and the team marched through it, coming out into warm air on the other side. The weather was pleasant, sunshiny but not too bright.  Surrounding the ‘gate were the scattering of ruins, most of them looking thoroughly bombed out and overgrown with vegetation.  Dark scorch marks still stained the stone pillars, and from the angle of the destruction, it was obvious that whatever had shot up the place had done so from the air. 

“Well, I guess I oughtta tell you, since total strangers are asking about this guy now.” Jack cocked his head thoughtfully, studying the landscape around them. 

“So, what is the Mandanu?” Sam asked. “What does it mean?” 

Jack sighed. “It means ‘Divine Judge,’ Daniel. Similar roots as your name.” He turned to elaborate to the others. "Daniel means 'God is my judge.'"

“Similar to the role Jesus played in Christian mythology?”  Daniel clipped his shades onto his glasses frames. 

“It’s _not_ mythology,” Jack shot back, slightly irritated, “and I doubt we’re looking off world for Jesus. It’s gotta be somebody else.” 

Daniel sighed, putting his hands on his hips.  “Yes, I know that. It’s just that there are similar references in the mythologies of a great many cultures, all of a similarly mythic figure, one being capable of passing judgment on those who take part in an Armageddon kind of war, the war to end all wars. Only I haven’t a clue whether this guy’s supposed to be a real person, a mythic figure, or an inanimate object.” 

“So it could be a thing?” Sam inquired. “Some kind of machine, maybe?” 

“Maybe.” Daniel frowned. “I really don’t have enough information at this point.  The Egyptians had a symbolic device that you all may remember from Sha’uri’s funeral. That feather.” 

“Yeah, what was that about, anyway?” asked Jack. “I mean, I get what it’s supposed to mean, but why a feather?” 

“There was a goddess named Maat whose personal symbol or totem was an ostrich feather.” 

Daniel pulled the little red feather the Ancients had left with the robe out of his jacket pocket and studied it as they hiked into the depths of the city. 

“Maat was the judge of the dead. She decided whether a person’s soul was worthy of heaven or hell by the weight of their soul. If they were burdened with guilt or fear, the feather would be outweighed by the heaviness of the soul. If they were unfettered, if they had lived a good life and been a just, honest person, the lightness of their being would match the weight of the feather. It’s beautiful imagery, really.” He fell silent, studying the feather and remembering the funerary service for his late wife. 

It seemed so long ago, yet still so fresh. 

Daniel twirled the feather in the sunlight. It was lovely, familiar yet alien, and he had taken to carrying it with him as a reminder. He noticed the Jaffa standing beside him, his expression gentle, almost wondering as he, too, gazed at the feather. 

Teal’c’s voice was soft as he began to speak.  “There is a legend among the Jaffa, a prophecy that is forbidden because the gods themselves feared it.  Those who dared to speak of it called it _Cheno’kal Pa’la’en,_ which means, ‘Scales of Eternity.’  We are told that a great war will come in which the gods and men will do battle.  All that is known will be swept away.  Worlds will perish, and a great lament will be heard among the stars.  When the final silence falls, all who are left will sit in the scales and be measured, both gods and men equally, according to their deeds.  Those who are worthy will rebuild the universe, and those who are found wanting will answer for their crimes.” 

He reached out to brush the feather with his fingertips reverently.  “Those who believe _Cheno’kal Pa’la’en_ keep a feather hidden in a secret place in their homes, for the judgment of Maat.”  He raised his eyes to Daniel’s.  “My feather was lost when my home was destroyed by Apophis.”  And then he smiled. 

Daniel handed the feather to Teal’c.  “Keep this one, then.” 

The Jaffa took the offering and inclined his head.

“I will, DanielJackson.” 

He tucked the feather into his BDU pocket carefully, his expression returning to its usual impassivity, but his eyes glowed with the fire of belief. 

“So let’s see what our ol’ buddy, Anubis, wanted here, kids,” said Jack, directing their attention back to the reason they had come to this world.  

This was the place Anubis had been trying to reach through Daniel for the last several weeks, and this mission had been approved only after it was ascertained that there appeared to be no one home, and no sign of danger. 

“Looks old,” Jack mused.  “Like it’s been like this a long time.” 

“Whoever lived here may have been fairly advanced,” Sam observed, picking up a hand-sized machine from the ground.  Instantly a hologram appeared above it, featuring an alien being speaking in an unfamiliar tongue.  “You get any of that, Daniel?” 

The archaeologist stepped close.  He frowned at the landscape. 

“I know this place.”  He hesitated.  “I mean, _Anubis_ knew this place.” 

He shuddered, checking his watch for the date. 

It had been exactly one year since the possession, though he doubted anyone else on the team took notice of that fact. 

“Of course he did,” Sam agreed.  “That’s why we’re here.”  She studied the machine in her hand.  “Sorry, but I don’t know how to run it back.  I don’t even know how I turned it on.  Darn good batteries in it, though, to still be working after what I’d guess must be thousands of years lying idle.” 

“You wanna tell us about where we are, or are you waiting for something?” Jack asked the younger man. 

Daniel shrugged, studying the machine.  He reached over and passed his hand beneath part of it, and it began to play again. 

“How’d you do that?” Sam asked, looking for a sensor on it. 

“I don’t know.”  Daniel pouted as he watched the hologram again. 

“I guess we’re not getting any answers right away,” guessed Jack. He moved on ahead, nosing through the debris, checking out the buildings for anything interesting. 

The device finished its broadcast and abruptly shut off.  Sam passed her hand over it, exactly as Daniel had done.  The device activated and played the recording again.  The alien being was very pale, almost white, with big silver-grey eyes and pupils slitted like a cat’s.  Its hair was a grayish-green, and very fine.  It was shaped like a hominid, but with thin, almost transparent webs between its fingers. 

“It looks like a fairy,” she murmured wonderingly.  “Beautiful.” 

“It’s Tejennan,” Daniel mumbled, listening intently and watching the body and facial gestures of the alien hologram.  “Ra destroyed them five thousand years ago.” 

He looked around, grimacing as memories flooded back and recognition set in.  “This was where the prophecy began, Sam.  It’s what got the Tejennans killed.” 

Just then, a faint whirring sound drew their attention toward the Stargate. 

Sitting on top of it was a small sphere with a mirror finish.  It lifted gracefully off the topmost arc of the ring and floated toward them. 

Daniel watched it hover above Sam, flashing a green light over her.  She reacted instantly, bringing her P-90 up to aim at it. 

Daniel put out a hand to stop her, then stood still and waited. 

“It’s just a scanner,” he advised.  “It checks all the visitors out who come through the Stargate.  I think it’s looking for something.  It looked over Anubis when he came to see the place for himself.  He visited just after Ra and his minions were certain they’d killed the people here.” 

“What was he curious about?” she asked him, watching it suspiciously as it hovered over her. “That Ra might have missed something?” 

The thing scanned him, and then move on to examine Teal’c and Jack, now some distance away. 

Jack eyed it with obvious mistrust, his P-90 gripped in both hands and ready to blast the thing out of the sky. It finished its scan, returned afterward to give Daniel another once-over, then settled back into its place on top of the ‘gate, and shut itself off.

“Well, I wonder if anybody’s still at home, or if that was just an automated procedure.” 

“Bet it’s automated,” Sam agreed.  “I’d like to get a look at its insides, though, just to make sure what it was doing.  Wonder why it scanned Daniel twice?” 

“Beats me,” he answered with a shrug. 

“We’ll snag it on the way back,” Jack told her, “if we don’t find anything else interesting.  Meanwhile, we’re heading up this way. You kids coming?” 

Daniel filmed the holographic recording with his digital camcorder and played it back from that until he had a better grasp of the message. 

“It’s about the end times,” he announced, not paying attention if anyone was still in earshot to hear him as he ran the recording back again.  “They’re talking about the coming of the ‘cleansing fire’, whatever that is.  The temple of light and shadow has to be finished before their world is destroyed.”  

His heart ached.  How terrible that must have been for these beings, to know they were going to be annihilated and have no way to prevent it.

Still, they were long gone, and he had work to do. 

He ran the recording back again and played it to see if he could decipher more of it.  The language was vaguely familiar – Taweret had taught it to Anubis, but the memory was dim.  It was unlike any language Daniel had ever heard before, musical and pleasant to the ear, like the sound of falling water. 

When he was done, he regarded the city, now mostly covered by greenery.  “Temple of light and shadow.  Where could that be?” 

None of his teammates were in sight. 

“Hey, wait for me!” he called, running after them in the direction he thought they’d gone. 

A footprint in the dust confirmed that he was headed the right way, and before long he heard snatches of conversation that helped him find his companions.

The sensation of deja-vu was strong, though he knew it was Anubis and not himself who had walked among those ruins eons ago. 

The image of the Tejennan on the recording stuck in his mind, and he could hear the echo of Taweret’s laughter mixed in with the sound of waterfalls surrounding him there. 

“Seen anything that looks like a temple?” he asked as he caught up to the team, glancing around himself. 

They stood in a central square, the four corners of which once held metal braziers.  All but one of them had toppled in the attack, but the metal gleamed like new, without a hint of corrosion. 

“Ra and Anubis never found it, but it’s important.  It’s the reason these people were destroyed.” 

Jack shrugged.  “Doesn’t look like the Goold left much behind.”  He wandered out into the middle of the square, studying the desolation. 

Teal’c was already on the far side of the square, looking for something significant.  

Jack turned to his 2IC. “Carter, you wanna check inside some of the buildings, or call this trip a loss and go home?” 

The hum of machinery sounded, and the ground beneath his feet began to vibrate.  Jack dashed back to the perimeter, calling his people to run for cover as the earth in that square started to split, dividing up into four neat sections that converged in the center. 

Tensely, they waited for whatever was happening to give them some indication whether it was safe or dangerous. 

The ground opened up and a glistening circle floated lazily upward, apparently resisting gravity. Beneath it, something else rose into view, and it was a moment before they realized it was a gigantic statue.  The figure was kneeling and had its back to them, but the clothing it wore was all too familiar. 

“It’s the Mandanu!” Daniel cried, excited now and hurrying around the square to the opposite side where Teal’c stood.  

Daniel filmed the appearance of the statue, walking carefully to make sure he caught it well, his gaze shifting between the digital screen and the debris-strewn ground. 

“We found it!” 

On the tiny screen, he eyed the beautifully painted cloak of black and white, fading into dark red at the hem.  He noted that the black half of the robe seemed to be cast in shadow, probably from the disk spinning above, somehow blocking out the light from the sun. 

“Okay, let’s get a look at this guy,” Jack agreed.  “Maybe we’ll know who he is after we’ve had a peek at his—“ 

Daniel had been so distracted as he walked, his vision switching from ground to screen, that he didn’t really see details of what he was filming. 

Once he rounded the last corner and took up a position to get a really good close-up of the statue’s face, he glanced to his right at the two men standing dumbstruck a few paces away, also mesmerized by the statue’s countenance, its massive head bowed in humility or sorrow. 

He zoomed in on the face towering over them, a thrill of trepidation making goosebumps pop up on his arms.  

Against the shadowed side of the statue’s face, a snake-like Goa’uld symbiote coiled, four-pronged jaws open and facial fins spread in a threatening posture. 

“No,” Daniel wheezed, staring at the face on the screen, his heart slamming to a painful stop in his chest.  His eyes filled, and he could hardly breathe.  He stopped filming and looked up at the stone face with his own eyes, just to confirm what could not _possibly_ be real.

He must have seen it wrong. His eyes were playing tricks. It was a twisted vision from Anubis, just to torture him.

Only it wasn’t. 

“Noooooooooo!” he wailed.  “This can’t _be!_   This is _wrong._   It _can’t_ be.  No—no no _no no no no!”_   He leg to of the camera, letting it dangle from the strap at his wrist, and grasped the P-90 slung over his shoulder.  He lifted the muzzle toward that huge stone face – _his own face_ – and shot it to pieces as he shouted with incoherent, disbelieving rage. 

Jack yelled at him to stop firing, coming at him on the run. 

“This can _not_ be!” Daniel heard himself shouting.  “The Tejennans could not have known I would choose this one as a host!” 

He lifted his hands from the P-90 in his grip, clutching at his head.  He kept screaming, shouting out his rage, eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

Jack stepped up and laid one hand on Daniel’s weapon, pushing the safety on and signaling Teal’c for support.  “Uh, Daniel...”  He quickly unclipped the weapon from its strap while Daniel continued to struggle, pushing at him, fighting him off as he wept. 

The Jaffa raced up and stopped up behind Daniel.  He grasped his right arm at the wrist, his fingers tangling in the camera strap, and twisted Daniel’s wrist back behind him, curling his arm upward, forcing him to his knees.  

“This can’t be happening,” Daniel moaned, instantly ceasing his struggles, tears streaming down his face.  “They _knew_!  The Ancients _knew_.  That’s why they gave me the goddamned robe!  Oh, God, please, no...” 

Sam stared at the statue, and then at her anguished friend, then back to her CO. “Sir? What do we do now?” 

“DanielJackson and Anubis,” Teal’c murmured.  “He is, indeed, a being of two worlds, standing equally between good and evil, as the prophecies indicated.” 

Daniel stared down at the ground for a moment, catching his breath. 

“I’m okay,” he panted.  “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have lost control like that.  I’m so sorry.” 

He waited, still and silent, until Teal’c released him on Jack’s command. 

Daniel stood up slowly, turned and shambled back the way he had come, head down.

Once on the far side of the square his head came up and his stride increased until he was running.  He was sobbing and distraught by the time he reached the ‘gate, unable to remember the combination of keys that would take him back home.  He couldn’t see, couldn’t think.  Panic welled up inside him, and he squatted down on the ground and covered his head with his hands. 

Someone touched him, pulling him to his feet.  He heard a voice and knew it was familiar, but couldn’t make out whose it was or what was being said.  Warm arms enveloped him.  A hand pushed his face down against a hard shoulder and Daniel held on, sobbing against the warmth, devastated by the discovery. 

“It isn’t me!” he cried softly.  “It _can’t_ be me.  Please, no, I can’t—“ 

“Hang on, Daniel,” Jack murmured in his ear.  “We can handle this together.  We’ll help you figure out what it means.” 

“Oh, God, it can _not_ be me!” Daniel moaned.  His knees buckled and he went down again.  Jack came with him, refusing to let go.  They sat there together, Teal’c and Carter close by, until the storm of emotional denial had passed and Daniel lay back against the ground, closing his eyes to rest and catch his breath. 

“Maybe it doesn’t mean what you think it means,” Jack suggested, embracing his knees as he studied his friend. 

Daniel smiled bitterly.  He started to laugh, covering his eyes and shaking his head.  “Oh, yes it does,” he assured the other man, bitterness filling his voice, tears still trickling slowly across his temples. “All the research we’ve done points right at me, as former host to Anubis.  He was the worst of his kind, the one with the blackest heart.  They just got the other part wrong.” 

Jack eyed Sam. He met her steady gaze and shook his head. 

He patted his friend’s shoulder for a minute. “No, they didn’t, Daniel. You’ve got the best heart of all of us.  You’re the one who’s always trying to find a peaceful solution, to save lives and help everyone you come across.  They pegged you right.  What’s the prophecy say again?  Something like the best of the good and the worst of the bad?  I’d say that’s a pretty apt description.” 

“We still don’t know what it is that you’re supposed to do, exactly,” Sam offered.  “If that makes you feel any better.” 

Daniel let his arms drop onto the ground beside him.  “Oh, I don’t think anything in the universe could make me feel better right now, Sam, but thanks.” 

“There’s always the gal back home,” Jack reminded him, patting his shoulder. 

Daniel studied Jack’s impassive face.  He smiled softly, sadly.  “You have such a way of putting things back into perspective, Jack.  Thank you.” 

He glanced at the sky again.  “This is going to have to be reported, isn’t it?” 

“ ‘Fraid so, big guy.”  Jack reached over and nudged Daniel’s hip.  “Think you can walk now, or do we need to carry you back home?” 

With a sigh, Daniel covered his face with his hands and rubbed a couple of times before letting them fall to the ground at his sides.  “Well, unfortunately, I haven’t done my job here, so we can’t leave just yet.  The statue was facing _away_ from the Stargate, so we need to find out what it was looking _toward_.  There’s still a good bit of investigating we have to do here, and Sam may yet find a few more cool machines here.  It’s time for me to get back to work.” 

He sighed.  “I can even show you where the Tejennan bodies were massed and burned, though I doubt there’s anything left worth studying after five millennia years.” 

Grief for the loss of an entire race squeezed his heart.  “They were a brilliant, beautiful people.” 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Jack assured him.  “I know it’s tough for you right now, but you _can_ do this.” 

“Yeah, no pressure, right?” 

Daniel felt light-headed and weak as he got to his feet, refusing to think about the prophecy and the face on that stone figure that he had obliterated.  He tried to put his emotions aside and look at everything with total objectivity, heading slowly back to the square and the statue. 

“Okay, first thing is, we need to find out what triggered the opening of what I’m guessing is the Temple of Light and Shadow.  That sphere thingie that scanned us at the ‘gate probably opened it when it identified... uh... me.” 

He shaded his eyes with his hand and studied the floating disk above the statue’s head.  “Jack, you and Sam should confirm that.  Meanwhile, Teal’c, if you’d do the honors, I’d like you to walk in as straight a line as you can and see if you can determine what the statue is facing, out that way somewhere.”  He gestured with one hand.  

“I’ll see what I can find out about the Temple of Light and Shadow, and this thing.”  He glanced sideways at the statue, avoiding the ruined face. 

“You good to do this now, or do you need more time?” asked Jack, a hand on his shoulder. 

Daniel sucked in a deep, slow breath, and let it out.  He nodded, forcing a smile.  “I’m good.  I’ll be okay.  I think the shock is over now, and there’s work to be done.” 

Jack nodded.  “We’ve got plenty of time, and I don’t think we should split up,” he countermanded, his tone gentle.  “So we’ll tackle this one piece at a time. You and Carter can poke around here first and T and I’ll watch your six.  No telling what else might pop up unexpectedly, and I’d feel better if you had backup close by.” 

“Okay,” Daniel agreed meekly. He was not in a headspace to be making decisions, and he knew it.  

Angling around to the front of the statue, he contemplated the base it sat on, also of the same shiny metal as the braziers, and walked right up to it, stepping around pieces of the stone face that had fallen off during his assault. 

He climbed around inside the space between the arms, searching for writing of any kind.  The only script he found was on the stole draped around the neck of the colossal figure, which matched the colorful stitching on the stole the Ancients had given him.  He climbed up onto the statue’s bent knee, looking around in the hidden areas beneath the drape of the robe, but found no other items of interest secreted away there.  As he headed back for the edge of the square, he took one more look at the kneeling figure, still avoiding its damaged face, knowing he would still see it in its original form in his mind’s eye. 

The arms were bare, as the robe had no sleeves.  On the left arm was painted the eye of Ra and the snake of Apophis, and on the right lay the reclining figure of Anubis, perfectly matching his tattoos.  On the left hand pressed to the ground was a smooth ring encircling one finger, carved out of the stone and gold-leafed, just like the wedding band he never removed.  There were a couple of odd rough spots on both sides of the wrists, but he attributed that to an unfinished carving, a statue completed in a hurry before the Goa’uld came to destroy these people. 

He closed his eyes, knowing there was no way he could carry out the responsibilities of such a legendary figure, but it was also unmistakably _him_. 

The faces of both beings, the tattoos, the ring and that robe were just too many coincidences to dismiss. 

Everyone would be looking to him to fulfill that role now, whatever it entailed.  His friends would keep quiet if he asked them to do so, but once it was detailed in a report, word would get out. 

It was already starting to catch up to him.  Word was spreading on many of the worlds SGC teams were visiting about a Promised One, about a great war that was coming.  Signs and portents had been seen.  Prophets were speaking, and it was only a matter of time until others made the same discovery, that the Mandanu had a name, that he was traveling through the Stargates, _and that he was coming to judge them all_. 

The Ancients had known all along.  That was why they had given him the robe and feather.  They had been gentle about the announcement, letting him research the role before he had to become it. 

Still, looking up into that silent stone face had been the shock of a lifetime, something he could never have prepared himself to see. 

He eased slowly down on both knees, his hands clasped in his lap, head bowed, eyes closed, hidden in the shelter of the statue’s body.

“ _’Father,’_ ” he prayed softly, “ _’let this cup pass from me.’_   Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?” 

“That’s not exactly the pose,” Jack observed casually from a few paces away. 

Daniel’s head came up, and he regarded his friend guiltily.  Religion was a deeply personal thing with him, and no one but his Maker ever heard him pray.  “Just, um, thinking about some things.” 

Jack shrugged.  “It’s okay, Daniel.  I’d be askin’ for help, too, if that were my face up there.”  His gaze was steady, but obviously a little spooked.  “You okay, big guy?” 

“No.  No, I’m not.  And I may never be okay again,” he glanced up at the ruined statue, “after this.” 

“I’m with you there.  You done?”  

“Yeah.  There’s nothing else here, aside from that ring floating above the statue’s head, and I don’t have a clue how to get up there to take a look at it.  There don’t appear to be any controls down here.” 

“Okay, then.  Let’s go on to something else.”  Jack put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder as they strolled into a nearby building and started poking around. 

Daniel focused on the interesting devices they discovered, appreciated the mechanism that had triggered the opening of the temple, and spent a couple of days deciphering the text on the remains of the monolith that the statue had been facing a short distance away.

But constantly in the back of his mind was the image of that huge visage bowed over him penitently, with the Goa’uld snarling a challenge to all who saw it.

Anubis _was_ a part of him now, there was no denying that. His blood carried traces of naquadah and the protein marker left behind when the body of the symbiote was absorbed by the host. Memories of thousands of years before he was born still plagued his dreams, and traces of the Other’s personality still dug at him in unguarded moments.

In death, Anubis had merged with him, ever-present and unconquerable. 

There was no way that what remained of Anubis could be purged from his mind. Daniel was constantly on guard against it, fighting back unwanted memories and opinions. More often than not, the human part of him won, but when he lost, the pain was almost more than he could bear.

He couldn’t continue to fight off the influence of the Goa’uld consciousness, and make more than a half-hearted attempt to become this Mandanu character.

It simply couldn’t be done. 

But somewhere on the horizon, looming in the background of the prophecy, was the rumor of war that had been severely downplayed in the quest to know more about this mythic figure.

Daniel had to warn the others that it was coming, get resources diverted to development of war machines that would give the human race a fighting chance against the Goa’uld, because he _knew_ they were coming.

And when they came, if Humanity wasn’t prepared, it would be over in the blink of an eye. 

He kept his head down as they headed back through the Stargate. Without looking at the General in the control room, he plodded to the armory and logged in his weapons, stopped in the locker room long enough to shower and change into fresh clothes, and then holed up in his office to do some intensive research into the Mandanu. He had asked his teammates to write up their reports but not submit them until his was finished, not to tell anyone what they had discovered until he was ready, and they had agreed. 

He wondered how long it would take him to admit to the fact that he, Daniel Jackson, was the Chosen One, and found himself hesitant to even tell his wife. Still, he had made her a promise before they married that he would hold no more important things back from her, and this was as important as it got. And rather than tell her in so many words, he phoned her in Archives and asked her to come to his office to review the films they had taken of the statue. 

She knew the moment she saw his face that he was upset, and queried him about what had happened.

He couldn’t talk to her, couldn’t say the words, and sat her down at his desk with the  camcorder queued up to their first view of the statue.

While she watched, he paced the room.

He heard her gasp, and then silence, followed by her fingers clicking the buttons on the camera, hitting the rewind and play, stopping the image at one point and just staring. 

And then she rose and came into his arms, trembling and frightened. 

“It’ll be okay,” she promised him. 

“That’s love talking,” he returned gently, looking down into her face at last. “Reality’s still screaming at me, and I’m still broken.” 

“What do we do now?” 

He swallowed hard.

“Now, we get ready for Armageddon.”

With a kiss on her hair, he pulled away.

“You should get back to work, now, honey. I just… I just wanted you to know. For the moment, please don’t talk about this to anyone. I’ve still got some research to do before I’m ready to turn in my report. Things are going to change after that, and I’m not sure how, but it’ll be big.” 

She nodded, tears in her eyes, chin up and quivering, trying to be strong.

“You know where I am if you need me.” She flashed a hesitant smile at him. “But when you’re home, I’ll still expect you to take out the trash, even if you are the Chosen One.”

Quickly, she kissed his mouth and left the room, closing the door behind her. 

Daniel almost laughed at her joke.

 _Almost_.

He paced a little longer, ruminating over the legend, trying to figure out exactly what he was supposed to do, but the weighty part of that role wouldn’t come until after the war was over.

And he didn’t like the thought of that at all. 

He struggled with the wording in the report.

After discovering the statue, he began to look up other references in Earth mythology, though they were few and sparse, often just a line or two in an entire race’s cultural history. The two most prolific sources of information were the Christian Bible and the Egyptian Book of the Dead, but neither really came close to offering a complete picture of what the character was supposed to be or do.

He had spent a great deal of time researching the legend previous to this discovery, but once the clues pointed directly at _him_ , he was unwilling to embrace the idea that _he_ might be the focus of any prophecy.

The inscriptions from the monolith on that planet held the greatest store of information, but even then, there wasn’t enough to paint a clear picture, not enough that he could argue might point to someone else, or allow him to attribute coincidence to the uncanny resemblance between the statue and himself.

The monolith had been a warning from the Goa’uld to any who visited that world that the Tejennans had been destroyed for their blasphemy, but not a hint of the prophecy that got them killed had been mentioned. 

Daniel read over the words on his computer screen and sighed, wondering how he could write it differently without outright fabrication.

 

* * *

 

 _ **The Meaning of Mandanu**_

_Out of all the mythological sources I have been able to trace, the Mandanu’s role appears to be that of some kind of mediator. In the Minoan culture of the Land of Light, he is the Divine Judge, a celebrated figure with the power to lay low the mighty and raise up the meek. To the monks of Kheb, he is the Instrument of Justice, the Great Measure. To the Orbans, he is the Lathe of Heaven – odd to find that particular title among an alien culture – and to the Latonans he is the Leveler of Worlds. All these mythologies point to one whose function is that of a symbolic or actual judge, whose purpose is to equalize that which is decidedly unequal, and decide the fates of those involved. In the Christian religions, this ‘divine judge’ figure is most often representative of Jesus; specifically, in the second coming of the Messiah._

_Still, the comparison of character in the mythos is the same – the one who weighs up the believers against the infidels and passes sentence on them after Armageddon._

_The Jaffa also have a similar legend, whereupon gods and men fight a great war, and when the dust settles, those who are left are judged by the Scales of Eternity, i.e., the Mandanu of the Ancients._

_Egyptian mythology offers still another variation on the symbol: the Feather of Maat, by which all souls are weighed before passing into the land of the dead. Those who are burdened by guilt, fear and other baggage are devoured by a monster [sent to hell], and those whose souls are light and pure as the feather go to their eternal reward [heaven]._

_The Mandanu is called by some of these cultures ‘a humbler of gods’, which I can only take to mean one who will have power of some kind over the Goa’uld. From my memories of Anubis, I can attest that this parable is the source of a great deal of trepidation on the part of the Goa’uld. We have yet to experience what the present System Lords think of the Mandanu legend, but I can’t imagine they’d be in any way pleased. This could, in fact, give them an even greater incentive to want the Tau’ri – myself in particular – wiped off the face of the universe. Teal’c’s insight to the legend indicates that this prophecy is forbidden by the gods (the Goa’uld) because they fear it – something decidedly un-god-like for a ‘god’ to show his slaves._

_The text the Orbans sent us reads: “And he shall be called the Lathe of Heaven, and all shall bow down before him. Worlds will tremble at his judgment, and he will hold the balance of the universe in his hands.” While I do not share the belief that this mythos could ever be fully represented in a single mortal entity, I nevertheless seem to have been charged with carrying out the role of Mandanu and must duly accept this mission, as assigned by the Ancients and confirmed by the statue on Tejenna, to the best of my ability._

_Though the research we have done thus far has indicated I may well be the prime candidate – a being of two worlds, who is both good and evil (at least, I like to think I’m a good man, though I am well aware of the evil that is Anubis, still haunting my mind) – I remain reluctant to accept the title._

_I plan to keep looking for one more worthy, though this ancient artifact seems to be infallible proof that I am the intended bearer of the title. While I choose not to represent myself as this character, it seems I have no choice in whether or not I wish to wear the title of Mandanu. If it has been prophesied on one world with such accuracy that my tattoos and hairstyle are depicted accurately, then it is conceivable that others may have shared the same vision. _

_Someone will eventually recognize me and apply the title to my face.  
_

_The character is interesting in that it is repeated in virtually every culture we have visited to some degree, whether as an inanimate device or element, or in physical persona embodied in a living being. I will continue to research this mythic figure to learn if we might be able to use this title to aid us in our search for technology or assistance in our battle against the Goa’uld; however, I do not accept it lightly. I am hardly worthy of such an exalted image and do not fully understand why I have been chosen to bear it._

_Perhaps as we continue on this journey we are undertaking, I will learn what the true purpose of the Mandanu is, and what I must do to be one. If the responsibility is something I can capably carry out, I will not hesitate to do as the Ancients have directed; however, without some guidance, I fear it will be beyond the scope of any mortal man, most especially myself. The phrase ‘feet of clay’ comes to mind here.  
_

_What I think should be uppermost on our minds at this juncture is that the Mandanu’s function doesn’t begin to become important until after the prophesied war between men and the ‘gods.’_

_Toward this end, we should be developing capabilities to fight the Goa’uld as quickly as possible, and shoring up the Alpha Site so that at least some of us will survive. Armageddon seems to be on the horizon,and we need every weapon we can lay hands on that might give the human race on Earth a fighting chance. We should also be courting those who have been our allies during our previous missions through the Stargate to see if they will help._

_Whatever this Mandanu is supposed to be, it won’t matter if Humanity is destroyed, and I intend to be right here, with my people, whenever Armageddon comes.  
_

_\--Doctor Daniel Jackson_

He had translated the writing on the stole and each bore the same description – the translation of Mandanu into a hundred different languages: _the Cleansing Fire_ mentioned on the alien hologram _, the Winnower, the Fair One, the Equalizer._ All had the same basic thread, but it was the Feather of Maat that was pictured on the back of the robe, dividing the black and the white portions of the garment.

He remembered the feather he had offered at Sha’uri’s funeral, the symbol of her soul’s purity, unburdened by guilt, allowing her safe passage into the afterlife.

He wondered about Reyenne, and what ceremony had been carried out after her death. He promised himself to try to contact Ysmin through the Tok’ra to find out the answer. And he swore that, someday soon, he’d perform a ceremony for Reyenne to consecrate her memory and send her soul on its way to heaven, with his blessings and his love. 

Still, the image of judgment haunted him, weighed him down.

Of all the people he knew, he believed he was least qualified to judge anybody on anything.

But whatever was in store for him was coming, and he was powerless to stop it.

 

* * *

 

 

 **21 October**

The sound of music coming through the door made Jack pause as he headed down the corridor. The fact that the door to Daniel’s office was closed was significant in itself – Daniel almost never closed his door because people wouldn’t knock. He wanted to be reachable, so it stayed open, even when he was crashed on his sofa, exhausted from some mission or other. 

But the music… Jack couldn’t help himself. He turned the door handle slowly, gently pushed the door open and looked inside, prepared to snap it closed if Doctor Jackson were enjoying a private moment with his wife. The archaeologist sat at his desk, the overhead lights turned off, only his computer monitor and desk lamp illuminating the room. Books had been pushed aside, leaving the desktop right in front of the man clear. 

Daniel had his eyes closed. His hands moved across the blotter, fingers touching down and lifting up as if they were stroking piano keys, in perfect rhythm to the piece playing on the stereo. It was a beautiful instrumental, gentle and contemplative, and Jack stepped silently inside and closed the door behind him.

When the latch clicked into place, the other man’s eyes popped open, and the ballet of his hands stopped.

He turned to the computer keyboard and hit the space bar to deactivate the screen saver. 

“Hi, Jack.” 

“Daniel.” The Colonel moved into the room, approaching the desk as the music continued. “Looks like you’re pretty good at that. You should play for me sometime.” 

A guilty glance up from beneath those heavy brows confirmed his suspicion. “Music was the first language I learned to read,” Daniel admitted slowly. “My mother taught me to play the piano when I was three. I haven’t touched a keyboard much in the last few years.” 

“We should do something about that.” Jack was already planning it. “Is the piano at your apartment tuned?” 

“Don’t start, Jack.” 

“Start what?” He strolled innocently over to the stereo, checking out the CD case. “Where’d you get the stereo?” 

“Shannon bought it for me. She said I needed more music in my life.” 

“And she’d be right.” He checked the illuminated number on the stereo and compared it to the jewel case. _Cristofori’s Dream_ by David Lanz. “Nice piece. Her music, too?” 

“Yes. You wanted something?” Daniel pretended to be concentrating on his work. 

“Just checking out your tunes. I’ll share some of my favorites with ya.” 

“Should I thank you or hide?” 

Jackson’s deadpan was perfect, right on cue. 

O’Neill grinned. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

He hurried to his office, grabbed the CD he’d listened to in his truck on the way to work – the one that had appeared mysteriously on his desk the day before – and took it back to Daniel’s office.

Without asking, he removed the one Daniel was playing and put the new one on.

He hit the play button and turned around to watch the effect of the music on its audience. 

Daniel’s hands hung in mid-air over the keyboard from the first bar, eyes closing. After a moment, he stared at the blotter in silence. Then regarded his friend with a look of haunted joy. “Where did you get this, Jack? It’s beautiful.” 

“Josh Groban is a _god_ ,” Jack assured him quietly. “That boy’s baritone could sing _anything_ and people would buy it. Talk about power…” 

The music reached into Daniel’s heart and grabbed on. “No one can listen to that and not be moved,” he agreed. “My God, what a voice! And that song – _Alla Luce Dal Sole_ , right? It could be a soundtrack for my life lately.”

Daniel rubbed his face wearily. He leaned on the desktop on his elbows, wonder still etched into his features. “Do you understand the words? I know you speak a little Iraqui and Ancients’ Latin, but I’m not sure about Italian.” 

“What kind of opera maven would I be if I didn’t understand Italian?” Jack shot back. He grinned. “Didn’t expect that, didja?” 

Daniel’s eyes opened and flicked upward to regard his visitor. A soft smile played in the corners of his mouth. “Doesn’t surprise me a bit, Jack. I know there’s way more to you than you show people. I’m glad you’re sharing with me.” 

Jack stiffened. “Don’t go getting all mushy on me, now, just ‘cause I let you borrow the new CD Logan gave me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “She left me this little present anonymously, but I know it was from her.”

Then he frowned, wondering how the hell he was going to handle things with that woman. 

“Don’t tell me you had it dusted for fingerprints.” 

“Nah, but Special Ops training _was_ involved.” His brows drew together, and he glanced at the door he’d closed when he returned with the CD.

Jack wandered closer and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Can I talk to you about somethin’?” 

Daniel swiveled away from the desk, directing all his attention to his visitor. “I’m all ears.” 

“Don’t boast about it.” Jack sat down on the far side of the desk on one hip. “I’ve been thinkin’ about some stuff lately. About women. Two in particular.” 

“Who both care very much for you,” Daniel added. He almost smiled again. 

Jack fiddled with a book on the desk, turning the page to have something to pretend to be looking at, rather than the other man. “You know I… care about Carter.” 

“Yeah. I know you love her. So does she.” 

Jack’s eyes went directly to those blue ones aimed right at him. “For a long time, I wanted… I couldn’t ask her to give up what she loves for me. What I felt for… for Sam… It’s changed in the last couple years. We both accepted that there could never be anything like… what the other Sams and Jacks we’ve known have had.” 

“But the love is still there.” 

He nodded. “It’s comfortable now. Like a rock in your shoe. If it stays in the same spot, you’re okay with it after a while. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

Daniel didn’t offer more observations, just sat quietly waiting for more. 

“I wasn’t happy about her seeing Doctor Romani at first. I worried about her. About them. Especially since he was… you know…” 

“Handicapped,” Daniel finished for him with an understanding nod. “You worried he wouldn’t be able to take care of her needs properly.” 

“But you _fixed_ that. And she’s happy with him.” 

“Which hurts in its own special way,” Daniel observed sagely. 

Jack nodded. “It’s a good thing, though! I know he’s a good guy. He’s good to her and for her.”

O’Neill sighed and rubbed his free hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “And then there’s Logan.” 

“It’s okay to be attracted to another woman, Jack. You deserve a life, too, and Logan’s a good woman. She’s smart and funny, and doesn’t take any crap, just like you.” 

“Exactly.” He started to pace. “I think I’m getting in over my head with her.” 

“Is it serious?” 

“We’ve only had a few dates in the last year, for cryin’ out loud.” Jack blew out a pent up breath. “But I’ve been around her enough to know that, if I let her in my life, I’d be in real trouble. She’s not the kind of woman to take a closed mouth kindly.” 

“She’ll expect you to _talk_ to her,” Daniel translated. He flashed a bemused half-smile. “And I think you’re already in trouble. Aren’t you, Jack?” 

O’Neill paced faster. His hands waved in the air as he spoke. “Every time I look at her, I wanna take her clothes off. I wanna kiss her. But… she’s gotta be handled just right or she’ll bolt. I keep pushing her away, Daniel. I keep tryin’ to convince myself I can’t get involved with her or anyone else, but then I—“

He sighed and ruffled his hands through his hair. “I’m all upside down. Inside out. I don’t know what I want.” 

He stared at the floor. “Yes, I do. I’m just scared shitless of her. Of what she is.” He glanced guiltily up at the other man. “You know. Smart.” 

“Talk to her, Jack. Take her to the opera. Hold her hand.” He grinned. “But don’t send her flowers or candy. Traditional stuff would only insult her.” 

“That!” Jack pointed violently at his friend. “See, that’s what I’m talkin’ about! I can’t _speak_ archaeologist. We literally have nothing in common—“ 

“Hockey,” Daniel reminded him. “Beer. SGC. Hand to hand combat.” He chuckled. “Meet her in the gym for a little one on one. I’ll sell tickets.” 

“I could wipe the floor with her,” Jack shot back, irritated at the suggestion that a non-military woman could outmaneuver a Special Ops trained soldier like him. “But I don’t wanna fight her, Daniel. I want to… uh… you know.” 

“Logan’s a passionate woman, Jack,” Daniel agreed. “Hand to hand combat could be exactly the thing that gets her worked up. That or a good argument. Trust me on this.” 

“Ya think?” The whole concept confused Jack. He sat down and thought about it, discussed it a little more, and decided it was worth a shot.

Logan was the ballsiest woman he’d ever met. Maybe it was time he got her back for that little tap she had given him when they first met. But picking a fight with her just didn’t make sense to him.

He couldn’t find a way around the obstacles standing so firmly between him and the woman he wanted, the woman he didn’t want to want so damned much. _  
_

Carter skidded to a stop just inside the door. “We’ve got a lock on one of the random re-dials!” she reported breathlessly. “We already sent the MALP through, and you’re not gonna _believe_ what we found!” 

Both men rose and followed her down the corridor to the control room. 

She didn’t stop talking all the way there, describing the treasure trove of machinery the transmission showed. “The room is kind of dark, looks like some kind of storeroom. There’s a DHD in the right place and it looks in good shape. There’s a big door, bigger than the Stargate, at the far end of the room, and a control panel beside it. General Hammond’s given us a go to explore the room, especially since our previous activation of the ‘gate brought no response from whoever made the storage room in the first place.” 

“Okay, then,” Jack finally interrupted. “Let’s take a look at the data so we know what we’re in for, and suit up.” He eyed Daniel. “You need to call home first?” 

“I’d like to see the MALP recordings, too, but yeah. I’ll call Shannon before we leave.” 

Jack grinned at him. “At least now you don’t have to have somebody in line for cat duty.” 

Daniel chuckled softly. “Yeah. Wives are good for that. And a lot of other perks, too.” 

O’Neill crossed his fingers, hoping they’d find some cool weapons for the coming war in that storeroom. Then he remembered another possibility, one he hadn’t heard about in a while. 

“How’s the reverse engineering coming for the mothership killer on Siraket?” he asked his 2IC. 

Carter’s frown was mighty. “Took us almost a year to get inside that thing. Could take _decades_ before we figure it out, and I doubt we have that much time.” 

Teal’c jogged up beside them, brushing some dirt off his hands. 

Daniel stopped at the entrance to the stairwell going up to the conference room and checked his watch. “What about the scheduled mission to P2S-4C3? The Kelownans are expecting us.” 

Jack shrugged. “I guess General Hammond will probably give it to another team. SG-Niner’s up next.” 

An hour later, they walked through the ‘gate into a dark, silent room.

Just after Sam checked out the DHD to confirm it was in working order, the room began to vibrate.

There was a sudden slight shift followed by a familiar thrum of power that all of them recognized immediately. 

“We’re on a ship!” Carter stated. “Do we dial home, Colonel?” 

But the decision was made for them when they realized the soft hiss all but hidden by the ship’s engines coming to life was a warning that the compartment was being flooded with some kind of gas.

Sam was closest to the DHD and made a valiant effort to dial Earth, but before she could depress the last key, she was overcome.

All of them dropped to the floor one by one as consciousness slipped away, helpless and vulnerable to whoever had taken notice of their arrival.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel woke in a dimly lit room that smelled pleasantly of flowers. He noticed immediately that his weapons were gone, and someone had taken his clothes and replaced them with an ankle-length gown, sleeveless, but with a wealth of material around the neck that might be pulled up into a hood. No straps bound him, as he expected, and he cautiously rose, putting a hand to his head as it began to throb with his movement. 

_“Move slowly,”_ someone said to him in Goa’uld. Her voice, however, was entirely human. _“The pain will fade soon.”_

He looked in the direction of the voice and saw a young woman dressed and made up in Egyptian style, seated near the source of the light. She had long black hair adorned with a gold circlet on her brow, sporting a golden jackal’s head. At her throat she wore a golden collar with a round charm dangling from it, made of what appeared to be mother-of-pearl. Incised into the shell were three wavy lines, symbolic of water. 

_Unusual combination,_ he thought. 

_“Where am I?”_ he asked her in the same language. _“Where are my friends? Are they all right?”_

_“They are well,”_ she assured him. _“Even the Jaffa who serves you.”_

_“He doesn’t serve me. He’s my friend.”_ Daniel got up and shook the hem of the robe into place over his bare feet. He glanced self-consciously down at his arms, and covered the Anubis tattoo with one hand. 

_“Which god do you serve?”_ the woman demanded. _“You bear the marks of three System Lords.”_

_“None,”_ he returned forcefully. His eyes moved up to meet hers. He had to be cautious how he put things until he knew more about which side her people were on, and who they were. _“Which gods do you serve?”_

She laughed. _“None. The Goa’uld are our enemies.”_

He almost wilted with relief. _“That’s great to hear. They’re our enemies, too.”_

Her smile vanished. Something cold and deadly gleamed in her eyes. _“Then why do you wear their marks?”_

Daniel glanced down at his left arm, then at his right. _“You could say these tattoos are kind of a System Lord score card. They’re all dead.”_

_“Anubis is… dead?”_ She stood up as if alarmed by something he said. She wailed and fell to her knees, obviously grief-stricken. 

The door to the chamber opened, and a splendidly dressed man with copper hair and bronze skin strode in. He spoke to her in another language, one that registered in Daniel’s mind, but that he couldn’t follow well. He recognized it, though. 

_It was Tejennan._

_“No one has spoken that language in five thousand years,”_ Daniel said softly, a little awestruck. He wanted to learn to speak that language, wanted to stay here with these people until he was fluent, but there was work to do. _“How do you know it?”_

The man, bending over the woman, raised his head and glared. _“How do you know it?”_ he repeated in Goa’uld. 

Daniel hesitated. He dropped his gaze to the floor and considered. He could tell them the truth, but they were strangers. He could sense no symbiotes inside them, yet the spoke the language of the Goa’uld. He needed to know more before he trusted them. 

_“Languages are my specialty,”_ he said slowly. _“I’m an explorer. My friends and I were on Tejenna recently.”_

The image of the statue scorched his memory, and he gasped and closed his eyes in pain. When he opened them again, the woman was on her feet and staring at him. 

_“Who are you?”_

_“My name is Daniel Jackson, and I come from a planet called Earth. Some call it the First World. Who are you?”_

Man and woman exchanged a meaningful glance, as if they were afraid to speak in front of him. The woman shook her head. The man seemed to argue that decision as he pressed his lips together. 

The woman turned back to him, her face unreadable. _“I am Isis. This is Khemen. Your friends are well, kept for the moment in other chambers.”_

_“May I see them?”_

Those names were running through his mind at light speed. They were Egyptian, and Isis was the name of a Goa’uld goddess, wife of Osiris, who had perished centuries earlier. These people had all the earmarks of being Goa’uld, except they weren’t. He didn’t understand, but this was a puzzle he desperately needed to solve, and fast. 

The woman studied him for another moment, then turned and led the way out into a tall but narrow passageway. There were guards outside, armed with staff weapons. None of them looked too friendly. 

In the next room, he found Jack just waking up. 

“Move slowly,” he repeated to his CO. “The pain wears off after a little while. Movement just makes it worse.” 

“Daniel, where the hell are we?” Jack demanded, opening his eyes to the strangers with a suspicious glare. “And who are our captors, here?” 

“I’m still trying to figure that one out,” Daniel admitted, glancing back at the woman. “They speak Goa’uld and _Tejennan_ , of all things! They don’t trust us, and I’ve been skirting around who killed Anubis. He’s important to them for some reason.” 

At the mention of that name, the woman gave a soft little sound of grief. 

Jack noticed. 

“I don’t they’re gonna like us much, then.” 

“Yeah, she seemed pretty upset that he was dead, but she also said they don’t serve the Goa’uld. And I can vouch for the fact that there aren’t any symbiotes here… except for Teal’c’s.”

He helped Jack off the bed and to his feet, then swept the other man up and down with an assessing gaze.

“You’re still wearing your clothes.” 

Jack glanced at his teammate’s new attire. “And you’re not.”

He made eye contact with Daniel. “What is it with all these alien women wanting to take your clothes off?” 

“Huh?” Daniel gaped for a second, then shook his confusion off. Jack would no doubt explain the joke at his expense later.

He spoke to Isis in Goa’uld. _“May I see the others?”_

They joined Sam next, but Teal’c they found in a barred cell surrounded by a force field. 

_“To keep the beast from escaping,”_ Isis explained. _“We do not trust them, not even those too young to take a host.”_

_“It’s years away from that, I promise,”_ Daniel assured her. _“Teal’c is our friend. He won’t hurt you, and neither will the rest of us.”_

Daniel was glad the conversation was taking place in Goa’uld, so Jack wouldn’t pop off a rebuttal that could get them all in deep trouble. 

_“He will stay here until we decide to release you through the chaapa’ai or kill you,”_ Khemen stated firmly. 

Daniel hoped his unhappiness at that pronouncement didn’t show on his face.

 _“I suppose we should talk,”_ he suggested. _“Get to know each other better, so you’ll learn to trust us.”_

_“We have no need for allies,”_ Khemen returned stiffly. _“What we must ascertain is what manner of threat you pose to us. Tell us about your meetings with the Goa’uld. We would know how the System Lords died, especially Anubis.”_

_“Can we sit down and maybe talk over some food or drink?”_ Daniel knew people were more relaxed at table than standing in a jail. He wanted them to relax, let down their guard a little, and he was pretty tense himself.

The look in Isis’s eyes every time she looked at him was chilling. 

Khemen and Isis exchanged a glance. A trace of embarrassment showed.

 _“You remind us of gentler times,”_ she admitted, her voice softer. _“Pardon us for our lack of hospitality.”_

She gave him a slight bow, but the look she shot him afterward was still frosty.

Isis led the way down the tall, narrow passageway into a small, circular room. 

A door closed on them, and they felt a disorienting wobble for an instant before the door reopened. 

“Elevator?” asked Jack, scanning the new room for potential threats.

They stepped out onto a spacious deck complete with plants and what appeared to be a sky above them.

Isis led them to a long stone table with cushioned benches on either side. Fruit, bread and wine were awaiting them, and their hosts took seats on the far side of the table. 

Jack leaned over to Daniel and whispered quietly. “I’ve got my back to the door. Ask if we can switch places.” 

Daniel shook his head, knowing Jack’s soldier-instincts were in play, but wanting to appear harmless.

He turned to Isis. _“What was Anubis to you, if I may ask?”_

_“You may not,”_ she shot back haughtily. _“When did he die?”_

_“Not long ago. A little over a year.”_

_“How did he die?”_

_“We need to know more about you before we answer that.”_ Daniel felt the potential for threat making his insides tighten. He had to be ready to move, to fight.

Jack stood up and pretended to examine the decoration on the walls, positioning himself for battle. 

_“That is fair."_ Isis took Khemen’s hand and squeezed it until her knuckles went white. She ignored Jack and Sam, eyes only for Daniel. _“Do you know of other Goa’uld? Any goddesses?”_

_“Hathor, Bastet… Osiris is now hosted by a woman. Is that what you mean?”_

_“We are not interested in them,”_ Khemen returned. His brows twitched as he regarded Isis.

She sighed and nodded, and Khemen turned back to Daniel. _“Do you know of one called Egeria?”_

Daniel’s gaze immediately dropped to the table.

Her name, spoken aloud for the first time in his hearing since the possession, brought tears to his eyes. His heart wrenched with renewed pain.

 _“Yes, we know of Egeria,”_ he repeated in a pained whisper, nodding with his head down so they couldn’t look into his eyes. 

_“Ra killed her,”_ Sam said slowly in Goa’uld.

She glanced at Daniel. “Sorry. I caught some of what you were talking about, and managed to pull that much out of Jolinar’s memory.” She touched his hand, her eyes filled with concern for him. 

Daniel nodded, glad she had said the words instead of him. “Thanks.” He took a deep breath and regarded the couple across the table.

They were obviously shocked by the news, and even more surprised that another of the visitors apparently understood their conversation.

 _“Ra killed Egeria about two thousand years ago,”_ Daniel revised for them gently. _“I’m sorry. She was… she was special.”_

Khemen and Isis studied him intently. _“You knew her,”_ Isis observed, her gaze narrowed. _“You loved her.”_

_“I…”_ Daniel glanced at the table, picked up a grape and pretended interest in it. Then he met her intent gaze.

He’d meant to hold back until he knew more about these people, but he was tired of intrigue. He just wanted to get on with this inquisition and get home.

Daniel sighed. _“Yes. I… I was host to Anubis, for a short time.”_

He waited for a reaction. 

And got it. 

Their eyes went wide. They sat back, stiffly erect, in unison. They rose as one, trembling, and came around the end of the table to kneel beside him. 

Daniel turned as they came, confused and slightly alarmed. _“Wha—what—are you—_ Uh, Jack…” 

Khemen and Isis knelt and bowed their heads. _“Father,”_ they said softly, and reached out to him with both hands. 

Daniel leapt out of his chair and half sat on it, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the two aliens.

“Uh, Jack, I think Anubis was the father of this race… somehow. That’s what they just called me. After I told them—“ 

“You didn’t!” Jack snarled, clutching at his robe. “Damn it, Daniel—“ 

Khemen rose and shouted the announcement at the top of his lungs. He was beaming, his eyes gleaming with joy as he knelt again. 

_“Anubis, our father! You honor us—“_

_“W-wait a minute,”_ Daniel stammered. _“Anubis is dead.”_

_“You will contain his memories,”_ Isis reminded him, smiling hugely. _“You must know us, Daniel Jackson! Can you not remember?”_

_“But you’re human,”_ he insisted. _“Anubis and Egeria’s children were Goa’uld. Thousands of them.”_

Isis touched the jackal head on her crown, and then the waves on her necklace. _“And their hosts, Keftum and Sa’aranet, gave birth to a child.”_  
  
Daniel’s heart squeezed up inside him. He choked, remembering Apophis’ child by Sha’uri.

_“Harsesis. Ra murdered him.”_

He covered his face with both hands, struggling to get control of his emotions. 

_“We mourn our brother,”_ Isis assured him gravely. _“But before our father Anubis left to present his beloved firstborn to the great god Ra, Keftum impregnated Sa’aranet a second time.”_

She smiled up at him hopefully. 

Daniel bent down to her. The rush of memories and emotions was powerful, and he lost himself in the current.

For a moment, Anubis seized control… and Daniel allowed it.

 _“I could not return,”_ he told Isis, his voice deepening under the influence of the symbiote’s ghost. _“Ra kept me prisoner, Isis. I never knew what became of our child. Of any of our children. Egeria was wise to hide them all.”_

_“Egeria, our mother, gave birth to twins, father,”_ Isis admitted happily. _“When she heard what happened to Harsesis, she sent us away on a great ship, with servants who would care for us. The children were called Taweret and Keftum, and they were the founders of our race.”_

She stood proudly, shoulders back, head high. _“We are the Harsesis, my father, so named in honor of our lost brother.”_

“Colonel, you’re not gonna believe what I think I just heard!” Carter whispered to him. 

“All I got were a lot of Ras, Anubises and Egerias,” Jack growled back. “What the heck’s going on? Everybody looks damned surprised. And what’s up with Daniel’s voice?” 

Daniel turned to him with a broad, beaming smile. “They’re my _children_ , Jack!” he said huskily. “Jesus! They’re alive!”

He hugged Isis and Khenum. Tears streamed unchecked down his face, and he kissed them both. “Oh, my God! You’re all alive.” He repeated his pleased surprise in Goa’uld. 

“Uh, Daniel…” Jack rose slowly from his seat. He tapped the younger man on the shoulder. “I hate to be a wet blanket on your party, here, but these are _Anubis’_ children, not yours. Remember?” 

Still beaming, Daniel turned to his friend. “Yeah, I know. But this is great news! Can’t you see that?”

He let go of the man and woman, and others began to appear and congregate around him, reaching out to touch him. He blindly hugged them, so filled with joy he thought he might explode.

It hurt to be so happy, but this was beyond anything he could have ever dreamed. His eyes scanned the throng gathering in the big room.

He had fathered a nation! 

_No,_ he reminded himself. _Anubis and his host, Keftum, had fathered a nation._

Daniel’s enthusiasm flagged as reason returned. He tried to touch them all, needing to share that with them. Then he sat down. 

All of the Harsesis present did the same, sitting on the floor at his feet. 

He spoke quietly, in their language. _“Anubis was horrified by what Ra did to his son,”_ he told them. _“He was kept a prisoner for centuries, always under Ra’s watchful eye. Anubis became bitter as hatred filled him, and he changed.”_

He took a deep breath and turned away from their hungry eyes, starved for some word, some connection to their father.

 _“Anubis searched for Egeria and their children, but never found them, or any trace of where they had gone.”_

_“We lived on ships, always,”_ Khenum told him. _“We stayed together, traveling among the stars, taking mates where we could, blending with those chosen to serve us, and now, all who live here are Harsesis. We remember our parents’ legacy. We know what our fathers and mothers knew.”_

Daniel exhaled a weary breath. They deserved the truth, to know what had become of the father they so revered, and so he told them in excruciating detail. 

The knowledge left them stunned and weeping.

Some got up and ran from the room.

It would take time for them to adjust to the horror that Anubis became. Their joy had turned in a moment to shame. None of them could look him in the eye. 

_“It took a long time,”_ he told the group, _“but I’m beginning to understand your father. All his cruelty came from pain few could survive. It changed him into something terrible.”_

Isis risked a glance at him.

Sam looked curious, but guarded. 

Surveying all the faces surrounding him one by one, he added with a touch of pride and deep, heart-felt love, _“But I think, if he were still here, seeing all of you might be the one thing that would have brought him back from the darkness.”_

Jack nudged his shoulder. “What are they cryin’ about now? They all look… relieved.” 

Daniel wiped a tear from his eye. 

Sam gave him a hug. “That was beautiful, Daniel. You’re so good at this!” 

“Don’t know what you said, but there’s not a dry eye in the house.” Jack’s eyes were still scanning the crowd. “So what’s our next move? How do we get Teal’c out and go home? And what about all the gadgets we saw in their ‘gate room?” 

“Well, they have the Goa’uld genetic memory, so if we can make friends with them, they could help us. What do you want to do?” 

“Bring ‘em home with us?” 

Daniel made the invitation. 

Surprise flashed across the faces of the Harsesis. _“We will not be safe on any planet, father,”_ Isis insisted. 

That made the man a little uncomfortable _“Um, could you call me Daniel? Please?”_

“The Goa’uld will find us if we do not keep moving,” Isis explained. _“We cannot return to First World with you, Daniel._ ” 

Disappointment settled on him like a lead blanket. “Oh.”

He glanced at Jack. “They said no.” 

“Well, then… technology?” 

Daniel leaned forward, elbows on knees, hugging himself. _“The Goa’uld are coming to attack my world,”_ he told the Harsesis. _“Do you have any weapons or shields, anything that could help us fight them?”_

Khenum stood and nodded. _“Come, Daniel. We will show you what we have.”_

The group took a tour of the ship, ending up on the bridge. Everything they saw was old technology, stuff the Goa’uld had improved upon or stolen better quality items. If these people did get into a firefight with the Goa’uld, they’d be annihilated in a heartbeat. 

With a sigh of defeat, Daniel offered a weak smile. _“Thank you, Khenum,”_ he said warmly. _“You have been a generous host, but perhaps it is best you keep to the habits that have kept your people safe these millennia.”_

“Hey, what’s that?” Jack stood before an observation portal, looking out into space. He pointed at something. 

Daniel moved closer so he could see. Far below, a planet was receding slowly away from them. But spread out all around the viewing area were hundreds – maybe thousands – of other space ships, all of varying size and design. 

_“They are the whole of the Harsesis,”_ Khenum explained. _“For we are many and growing, as our mother commanded us to do.”_ He bowed from the waist to Daniel.

 _Egeria..._

Her name was a sigh in his heart. Grief and joy warred within him as Daniel struggled to tamp it down.

 _“Egeria was the greatest of her kind,”_ he observed sincerely. _“We of the Tau’ri owe her much.”_

The trio returned to the holding cell for Teal’c and were ushered back to the storage room where the Stargate was kept.

Daniel showed the Harsesis the address for Earth and watched as it was scribed on the ‘gate room wall, warning them about the iris. He told them that, if they ever changed their minds and wanted a place to call home, or needed help if they were found by the Goa'uld, to contact Earth and the door would open.

And then, with his companions, he dialed home and stepped through the event horizon, empty-handed, but lighter of heart.

 

* * *

 

 

 ** _November 1_**

Senator Kinsey sat at his desk, the report on the blotter before him. His eyes smoldered as he stared at it, outrage filling his soul as he read the words: 

_In the Christian religions, this ‘divine judge’ figure is most often representative of Jesus, though I can’t possibly believe anyone would buy me in that role. Still, the comparison of character in the mythos is the same – the one who weighs up the believers against the infidels and passes sentence on them after Armageddon…_

Kinsey heard the echo of another text in his mind, and the comparison made him ill. He got up and began to pace the room, rage boiling up inside him. This was a direct reflection on the Godlessness of those in charge of the SGC, that they would embrace such a prophecy and pin it on one of their own.

Doctor Jackson had as much as called _himself_ a Messiah. 

“The audacity!” he spat. “The sheer egotism, to compare himself to Christ…” 

He thought about it, but hatred clouded his mind. He got down on his knees and prayed about it, begging for the clarity of thought to do what needed to be done. Kinsey was an instrument, and asked to be filled with holy purpose. 

And when he rose up from his fervent prayer, weak and drained, his clothes soaked with sweat, he knew exactly what he had to do. It would take some time to set up, but it was a lesson that had to be learned, and there was only one way to teach it. His eyes strayed to the plain wooden cross on the wall behind his desk, and he sighed. 

“Thy will be done, O Lord,” he murmured. 

A strange excitement rose up in him as he left the room, and the more he thought about it, the more intense that sense of righteousness became.

This would be glorious.

And no one who knew about it would walk away unchanged.

 

* * *

 

 

 **February 27**

Daniel stood in the kitchen with his mug in hand, just watching his wife.

Her back was to him as she washed up the breakfast dishes, her hips swaying in time to the music in her head. She was humming _Now and Forever_ , the song he’d sung to her when he proposed, and she was happy. His heart was so full he could hardly stand it, and he remembered making love to her one last time the previous night, knowing they had to abstain that particular form of intercourse until after the baby was born. 

It would be soon now, just another week or two, and he was ready.

Janet promised them that the baby was normal and healthy, and the anticipation was getting to him.

 The nursery was prepared, Shannon’s bag was packed for the expected hospital stay, and Daniel had been taken off active duty so he could be on Earth for the event, whenever it happened.

All they had left to do was wait. 

From the back, he thought, no one could tell she was pregnant. All the evidence was out front, her waistline swollen and hard with baby. Admiring the view, he set his coffee cup down on the island bar and came up behind her, smoothing his hands around her belly and then moving upward to cup and squeeze her breasts. 

“I love you,” he murmured against her hair. “And I don’t wanna go to work today.” 

She looked up at him with a grin. “You _have_ to go, silly man. You’re briefing two teams before they go off world, and you’ll hold everyone up if you’re late.” She kissed his cheek and returned to washing his breakfast dishes. “Now, off wi’ you, Danny.” 

“Have I ever told you what a nice rack you have?” He fondled her breasts more intently, making her gasp and lean back against him. He smiled with pleasure as her eyes closed and she groaned. “One more time?” he whispered against her neck. 

She chuckled huskily and turned around in his embrace. “Has anyone ever told you what a sexy man you are, Daniel Jackson?” 

“Only you, Shannon Jackson. What do you think? I can be late.” His hands slid over her buttocks, pulling her toward him, but couldn’t connect because her distended abdomen was in the way. 

She shook her head and laughed a little. “Wicked man. Don’t you ever get enough?” 

“Of you? Never. And it’s going to be a long two months with no sex.” He kissed her deeply, and her arms slid around his neck. He noticed she didn’t touch him or his clothes with her wet hands. 

“Janet said we couldn’t do it _vaginally_. She didn’t say we couldn’t do it at all,” she reminded him. “There _are_ other ways, you know.” 

“And we’ve tried most of ‘em,” he admitted happily. “I just love being inside you, Shannon. And I’d love just _one more time_ …” 

“I can barely walk as it is, you randy man,” she argued pleasantly. “Much more poking about up there and this baby’s going to fall right out! Go to work, Danny. We’ll scratch your itch when you get home tonight.” 

He beamed down at her. “How did I ever survive without you?”

Placing a kiss on the end of her nose, he rubbed her belly fondly, turned and grabbed his coffee, then headed for the garage.

He was about to turn onto the main thoroughfare that would take him to the base when he remembered he’d left his briefcase in his library, and with a sigh, turned the car around to return home and get it.

 

* * *

 

 

Shannon sighed as she heard the car start up and pull out of the garage. Finishing up the last of the dishes, she headed for the bathroom to shower and dress for the day, but a glance at the bed reminded her how tired she was, and she snuggled up under the covers for a little nap before starting the day again. 

She had just closed her eyes when she heard a door open in another part of the house and sat up beneath the covers, wondering what had brought her husband home again so quickly. 

“Rise, Shannon,” she heard a voice call softly from somewhere nearby.

Thunder rumbled softly in the room.

The deep, resonant voice sounded familiar somehow, but she couldn’t see anyone and a thrill of fear shot through her. 

“Who’s there?” she murmured, clutching the covers. 

The air at the foot of the bed shimmered, and something took shape before her eyes. It was tall and furry, with large black eyes spangled with stars.

“Remember,” it said in a voice like distant thunder, and waved a glowing hand through the air. 

The instant of fear she’d felt when she swathe creature vanished. She sat up, smiling with radian joy, and got off the bed, arms opening in welcome.

Then it turned and faced her open bedroom doorway, the staff in its other hand aimed at the opening. “They come.” 

“Oh, my God,” she breathed. 

They were coming for _her_ and her _baby._

A blonde woman stepped into the room. She jerked around in surprise as she caught sight of the furry guardian near the bed, and fired a _zat’nik’tel_ at it as she took up a defensive position, backing toward the doorway.

The energy discharge dissipated without touching the alien being. 

Instinctively, Shannon crouched down behind the bed, one arm embracing her belly protectively. She didn’t try to peer over the top. Her guardian was there to protect her, and she trusted him implicitly. 

Four men stormed approached the door behind the other woman.

The guardian blocked the way, brandishing its staff and batting down the men as they charged. Two went down quickly. A third engaged the furry one in combat, while a fourth skirted around them, heading right for Shannon. 

He had a knife in his hand, and the gleam in his eye made her realize his intent was passionate, personal. 

She reached behind her for the heavy bronze bookend on the nightstand, and swung it at him as she screamed. He dodged backward to avoid it, and the furry alien turned, jabbing him in the back with the butt of its staff. With a cry of pain, the man buckled and fell onto his back, and Shannon slammed the bookend down on his head.

The intruder lay still and she crouched behind the bed again, whimpering and crying in fear. 

A door closed distantly in the house as another two men entered the room. 

“Daniel!” the furry one called. “To arms!” 

The woman took aim at the guardian again and fired, then directed the zat at Shannon, who ducked behind the bed as it went off. The smell of burning fabric choked her, but she stayed down while the alien battled the men, listening to the sounds of running footsteps and her husband’s voice calling for her as he ran through the house. 

“Daniel, she’s got a zat!” Shannon cried, risking a glance upward through the smoke as he pounded down the hallway toward their bedroom. 

The alien dispatched the last of the men with an adept spin of his staff, and came toward the woman. She turned and ran for the doorway just as Daniel dashed inside.

She didn’t have time to raise her weapon before his fist impacted on her jaw, and she went down in a heap on the floor.

He kicked the weapon away from her hand and advanced on the tall alien with a shout of rage. 

“No, wait! He’s helping me!” Shannon cried, peering over the top of the smoking mattress. 

Daniel hesitated with his fist cocked, and the creature _vanished into thin air_. 

Shannon was on her feet instantly, running for him with arms outstretched, sobbing wildly as his arms closed around her. 

“Are you okay?” he demanded, pushing her back far enough to get a good look at her.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, terror gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the room.

Then he was towing her down the hallway with him, heading for the car.

Seconds later, he was driving her to the base, to the one safe haven he knew where no one could get to her. 

“What happened?” 

She explained as best she could. “The alien, the one who protected me – Danny, I _know_ him! He’s a Furling.” 

He stared at her for a second, then aimed his eyes back to the road. “Okay. And you know this how?” He licked his lips nervously, waiting for her answer. 

She sighed, her hands trembling as she pushed her hair back from her face nervously. “He told me to remember, so I’d recognize him and not be afraid of him. _He_ was the one who looked after me during those two years I was… away.” 

“So you remember everything now?” He reached over and took her hand, holding onto it as he drove. 

“Yes! And I can’t wait to tell you about it, love. But right now, I just want to stop shaking. I just want to hold you and feel safe. I’m so scared, love. They were going to kill me. They were going to kill _us_.”

Shannon patted her belly and circled her other arm around it protectively. She started to cry. 

Daniel let go of her hand and put his arm around her, pulling her against him as he mashed down the accelerator and drove the car as fast as he could manage.

“It’s okay, baby,” he promised gently. “You’re safe now. You’re safe with me.” 

As soon as the car was parked on the base, he scooted over in the seat and wrapped his arms around his wife, kissing her hair and petting her, resting his hand on her abdomen.

“We’re safe, Shannon. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

He just held her, rocking her against him until she finished crying. 

She sat up and looked at him guiltily. “I’m sorry I fell apart, Danny. I’ll be okay.” 

His eyes were filled with concern. “It’s okay to be scared, Shannon. I’d have been scared, too. If it hadn’t been for the Furling…”

Tears filled his eyes, and were blinked away.

“C’mon. Let’s get you inside.” He got out and came around to her door to help her out and walk her inside with his arm around her protectively, scanning the grounds for any suspicious characters.

“I gotta thank that guy, whoever he was.”

His expression softened. “So that’s what a Furling looks like, huh?” 

“Yeah. The males are white or light colored, and the females are dark. That was Lord Hu.” She smiled, remembering. “I liked him a lot. He’s funny. Very passionate. Kind of reminds me of you, in a lot of ways.” 

“Except I’m not furry,” he teased, kissing her head again as they entered the tunnel mouth. “Or nearly that tall.” 

He held onto her all the way to General Hammond’s office. The door was open, so they entered without knocking.

“General, we’ve got a situation here. Someone just tried to kill my wife. Could you send some SFs to my house to see if they’re still there?” 

Alarm flared in the General’s eyes. “How many?” 

“Four men and a woman,” Shannon answered, taking a seat in the guest chair. “They were out cold when we left, but probably gone by now.”

"I recognized the woman," Daniel added. "Hernandez from SG-four - she's his girlfriend." 

Hammond reached for the phone and barked orders to someone on the other end. When he hung up, his eyes were blazing but his voice soft, compassionate. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

Shannon told him in as much detail as she could remember, and by the end of the second recitation she was feeling distinctly woozy.

“I think I need to lie down,” she told them both.

Daniel carried her to the infirmary and laid her out on one of the beds, telling the nurse who came to check on them to fetch Doctor Frasier. 

His expression was tender as he hovered over her. “I love you, honey,” he murmured, and bent down to kiss her. 

Her eyes filled. Her heart wrenched with need as she realized how close she had come to losing him. She reached out for him and pulled him down to her, sniffling against his cheek. 

“I love you, too, boyo,” she whispered, terrified she might never get another chance to tell him how she really felt. 

He pulled away, just a little, just enough that he could see her face, touch her cheek with his hand.

“I know, baby. I’ve known for a long time.” He sighed, and his other hand smoothed over her belly. “But I’ve needed to hear you say it more than you’ll ever know. Thank you, Shannon.”

He kissed her, and his hands slid beneath her back, pulling her tightly against him. His mouth moved from hers to her cheek, to her neck and shoulder, and his arms tightened until she could hardly breathe. 

He held her that way for a long time, and for a moment, she was content. She needed nothing but this moment, this man.

But the moment passed and Janet arrived to take charge and check her out, running Daniel out of the room while she examined her patient. 

By the time he returned Shannon was drowsy and in need of rest, so he kissed her and promised to come see her later in the day. When he did, he told her that he had arranged quarters for them both on the base, but his face was grave. He wouldn’t tell her what was bothering him, but she heard it in passing from one of the SGC teams discussing the situation in the hallway as they returned from a mission.

_Osiris was coming._

The Goa’uld had massed an army with the sole intent of destroying Earth, and the Tok’ra spies who had passed on that information had been killed.

It would take a little time for the four motherships she commanded to reach the planet, but the Tauri were nowhere near ready. The fighters being built from the Ancients’ design were still being studied, though some parts had already been put into production. 

Which meant that the planet was doomed, and within a few weeks, every human being still there would be dead. 

Daniel escorted her to the bleak little room they would be sharing, with two military issue bunks pushed together to serve as a bed for them. 

“I have to leave, Shannon,” he told her, his voice tense. “I’m going on a mission to ask our allies for their help. I want you to make part of the trip with me. That means going through the Stargate again.” 

She looked down at her bulging waistline, and the baby inside jiggled. “Is it safe for the wee one?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We have to risk it, Shannon. There’s only one place I can think of where you’ll be truly safe: with the Ancients in Ninth Space. The Goa’uld can’t get to you there.” 

She wanted to say so much, to argue with him, to tell him that her place was wherever he was, but words wouldn’t come. She nodded and bowed her head, unable to see him for the tears in her eyes. He didn’t need to be worrying about her while he was fighting a war for the survival of Earth. It was best for him that she go without protest. 

“We’ve got a little time,” he reminded her. “I brought your go-bag from the house, plus a few other things. I don’t know how long we’ll be apart…” 

He wouldn’t say that it could be forever, but from the look on her face, she knew it. 

He sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand in his. 

“I love you, Shannon.” 

“I love you, Danny.” 

He got down on his knees and put his hands on her waist, kissing the rounded curve of her abdomen. “I love our baby, and I want you both to be safe.” 

“Please, Danny, just stop! Don’t say you love me anymore. I want it too much, and it hurts me.” 

He reached up and took her face in his hands, his eyes pleading. “But it’s _true_ , Shannond. I love you like I’ve never loved _anybody_.” 

She turned away, hurt by the lie. 

His hand moved down to encircle her swollen waistline, gently smoothing over her lower back.

“I loved Sha’uri,” he began softly. “I still do. I think I always will, but I want you to understand something, Shannon. Her people were innocent and simple, like children. Sha’uri was…”

He grinned in spite of himself, and chuckled a little as the memory skittered fondly through his mind. “She was _really_ good at keeping me humble, when everybody else treated me like a god. I was their wise man, so far above anything they knew that they were almost like children to me. Do you understand?” 

Shannon nodded. “I’ve lived with primitive peoples before, Danny. I know what that feels like, as if your mind is light years beyond anything they could ever understand.” 

He nodded. “Sha’uri could never be my equal, Shannon, no matter how much I loved her. No matter how sweet and passionate she was, I could never carry on a conversation with her about the things I loved most, because she couldn’t understand.”

Daniel withdrew his hands a little, resting them on the mattress beside her, and bowed his head. “I think that must be another thing that drove me to unbury the Stargate, after I found the cartouche room. I just… I had to _tell_ somebody! Somebody who could understand, and I knew that _no one_ on Abydos could share that with me.” 

There was guilt in his eyes as he lifted them to her face again, begging for understanding. 

“You were lonely,” she guessed. 

“Yes. And no matter how much Sha’uri and her people tried to include me in their lives, there was always this huge part of me standing outside, studying them as the scientist I am. I could never have been happy there forever. I’d have had to come home, back to my world, eventually. And Sha’uri would have been _lost_ here.” 

His eyes filled with tears. 

Shannon understood what he was talking about, but couldn’t say.

He’d have gotten bored with Sha’uri, in time.

And that hurt him. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured. “Reyenne could have done for me what Sha’uri couldn’t, and to a degree, that’s true. She was an archaeologist, so she understood my profession. But she was also a Tok’ra, and a Goa’uld before that.”

He shook his head. “She and I were doomed from the start, Shannon. How Reyenne managed to keep her soul intact through all those years she was a Goa’uld is testament to her strength. I admired her. She was very wise, and beautiful. I loved her, and some part of me loved the symbiote she carried, too.”

His hands clenched against the blankets, and tension etched his features. His tongue darted out between his lips as he struggled for words.

“But her first allegiance was to the Tok’ra, to the mission. She would have walked away from me when it was over, and never looked back.”

His gaze fell on the curve of her abdomen. “And we never could have had _this_.” He leaned close and kissed her belly. 

“You could have gone _with_ her,” Shannon insisted, her voice tight with leashed grief. “You could have had love—“ 

“No,” he argued gently, making eye contact again as he shook his head. “I would never have been comfortable among the Tok’ra.”

His eyes narrowed. His brows drew together. “Don’t you see, Shannon? I’ve been looking for you, all along. You share my passion for history. You understand my work, because you’re part of it. You challenge my intellect. You arouse my passions in all sorts of ways. Shannon, my God! You _complete_ me. Don’t you get it?” 

_“Alto, Daniel. Ego no vouloir vinna ser inn, amor. Ego ag iarradh mar a agasallo.”_ Shannon wanted desperately to believe. This was how they played with each other, making up sentences in a pastiche of languages. It was also how they argued. 

Daniel pounced to his feet, pointing at her. “See? _See?_ That’s _exactly_ what I mean!”

He stepped away from the bed and started pacing, head down, mind obviously racing. “I _love_ this game! You’re _so_ good at it, _so_ fast, and it takes me a second to figure out all the languages and do the translation.” Head down, he repeated the phrase exactly as she had said it, and then began to take it apart, word by word. 

_“Stop, Daniel. I don’t want to earn your love. I want it as a gift.”_

With a smile, he sat down beside her again, his face so earnest. “Nobody else can do this with me, Shannon.” 

“There are a lot of people on this base who can do that,” she countered gently. “I got the idea from Logan, actually. She likes word games.” 

Daniel nodded. “The thing is, you make me work for everything. You keep me sharp, and a little off balance. But when we need to be on the same page about something, we are. I don’t know how else to convince you, honey! I didn’t _want_ to fall in love with you. I’m not even sure exactly when it happened, but I know it, to the roots of my soul, Shannon. You’re _everything_ to me. I need you. I can’t—“ 

An image shot through his consciousness, and the pain it left in its wake pulled at his face. He grimaced, and embraced her belly, laying his cheek against it. “I can’t live without you, Shannon. I _won’t_. I’ll come back for you, I promise.” 

That admission scared her. He was way too intense, too upset, and she was afraid for him. She stroked his hair, his face, his shoulders. “Danny, things happen. We don’t get any guarantees, and there’s always a chance something could go wrong. You know that. We both have to be prepared for it.” 

He looked up at her, his eyes warning her. “Don’t even think it,” he snapped. 

She didn’t want to think about that, but childbirth brought a certain risk to it that she couldn’t deny. It had been on her mind a lot lately and she’d been making preparations, just in case. She hadn’t told Daniel because she knew it would upset him, and he had enough on his mind. And now, with the events of that morning, she knew it was something he _did_ need to prepare himself for, whether he wanted to or not. 

“How many babies have you delivered, again?” she asked gently. 

“Three, so far.” 

“And the midwives who taught you, they had a lot of stories to tell. Didn’t they?” A lump was forming in her throat. She knew what many of the complications were. Women and babies still died in childbirth, even in that age of miracle medicine. 

He was breathing hard, fear creeping into his gaze. “I can’t… Shannon, I can’t live without you. I _won’t._ You complete me. You’re the other half of my soul.” 

“You’re the _Mandanu_ , Daniel. I’m not a part of that.” She cradled his face gently in her palms, and tried to smile. 

“Yes, you are. You’re the very _heart_ of whatever that is.” He placed his hand over his chest. “You're in here.” Then he laid the same hand on her abdomen. “I’m in there. One Being, Shannon. Just _one_. Do you understand?” 

She nodded, trying desperately to see him, but his image shimmered in a flood of tears and she sobbed as her heart shattered. He gathered her up in his arms and laid her back against the bed, his body warm and comforting, pressed close against her. He kissed her until her grief waned before a flood of passion, and his hands and mouth pleasured her until she lay breathless and boneless on the bed. 

He tried to resist as she undressed him, but gave in to her need as she made love to him one last time. They lay together, bodies entwined, until other needs forced them up. She told him he was beautiful, and then took his hand as he led her out of their temporary home, bound for another world. 

She prayed that it would not be the last journey they made together, but knew that nothing was ever certain. 

Nothing but the love she had in her heart, and growing under it in her body.

 

* * *

 

 

 **28 February**

Daniel ushered Shannon into the ‘gate room, taking note that the other members of SG-1 were already there.

Today, he had left the BDUs in his locker. Instead, he wore the Mandanu robes with a pair of simple sandals. The only gear he carried was the IDC strapped to his wrist.

With a nod to Jack, the Colonel gave the signal and the dial-up began in the control room above.

They had chosen a peaceful, uninhabited planet as a meeting place where the team would wait until Daniel’s private mission was complete. 

“Hurry,” Daniel urged softly.

Shannon stood beside him, eyes were wide with fear. He felt her trembling in his arms and tried to reassure her. “It’s gonna be okay, honey. You’ll be fine.” 

“I’m scared, Danny,” she whispered, eyeing the watery surface as it settled into calm ripples. 

He pulled her up the ramp with him and heard her inhale and hold her breath just before they stepped through, hand in hand. He caught her as she stumbled on the other side, his arm circling protectively around her distended abdomen.

“Everybody okay?” he asked, rubbing her belly fondly and offering a warm smile. 

She exhaled noisily and shivered. “Yeah. We’re fine. More or less. You’re sure ‘gate travel won’t hurt the baby?” 

For a moment he didn’t answer. “We’ve transported refugees through the ‘gates, with no reported casualties, but it’s a chance we have to take, Shannon. You can’t stay on Earth. It’s too dangerous for you there.” 

She nodded. “I know.” Her eyes filled, and she smiled bravely. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to become a liability.” 

He cupped her face in his hand. “You’re not. I _love_ you. I want you and our baby to be safe.” He kissed her tenderly, taking his time to comfort her. 

“Hate to rush you, kids,” Jack prompted as he arrived, “but we’ve got places to be.” He glanced at them, then at his boots. 

The couple moved down off the ramp and stood waiting, hand in hand, for the others to arrive. Sam and Teal’c escorted Shannon to the temple to wait until Daniel returned. 

Daniel watched them go, with Jack at his side. 

“Showtime,” said the other man. 

Jackson sighed as he pulled the list of addresses out of the depths of his robes.

He dialed the first address and waited.

The seventh chevron did not engage. “I guess the Nox still aren’t taking our calls,” Daniel complained.

He dialed the next one, and when the _kawoosh_ was past, he headed up the ramp alone. 

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Jack asked. “I’m not too keen on you going back there, after what happened last time.” 

“Nem’s not a bad guy, Jack. We have common ground.” 

“Nem’s not a _guy,_ period, Daniel. He’s a _guppy_. Just be careful. You don’t come back on time, we’re comin’ after ya.” 

Daniel nodded and disappeared through the ‘gate.

He strode purposefully across the sands, taking care to avoid the spouting vents of flaming volcanic gas. When he reached the beach, he began to write his message in cuneiform, hoping to have a chance to interact with Nem in person, but leaving a calling card in case he missed the Oannes male. 

“What. Fate. Sha’uri?” 

Daniel turned at the sound of the voice. “Greetings, Nem.” He rose and brushed the sand off his hands. He tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage.

“Sha’uri… is dead, Nem. For some years now.” 

Nem gave him a graceful bow. “I. Am. Sorry. Daniel Jackson.” He cocked his head and studied the colorful outfit. “You. Are. Now. Mandanu... Be. Welcome.” 

Daniel glanced down at the ground self-consciously. “Yeah. I haven’t gotten used to all this yet. It’s kind of embarrassing.” 

“But. Earned. With. Great. Pain,” Nem concluded. 

“Yes. _Unimaginable_ pain.”

He swallowed, and took a step closer to the being. “Nem, I don’t know what your people’s philosophy regarding getting involved in the affairs of others might be, but I’ve come to ask for your help. Your _people’s_ help. My planet is about to fall under attack by all the massed Goa’uld armies. My people are going to be annihilated. Can you help us? Will you help us?” 

Nem studied him. “You. Are. Mandanu. For you. I. Will. Ask.” He bowed. Then he met the man’s eyes. “I. Wish. To. Say. Sorry. For. Before... When. We. Met.” 

That got a smile. Daniel said, “It’s okay, Nem. You thought I was a slave to the Goa’uld. You were just being cautious. Nothing wrong with that. I understand.” 

Nem bowed deeply. “I. See. Why. You. Were. Chosen.” 

“So, you’ll help us?” 

“I. Cannot. Speak. For. All. Oannes. Mandanu.” 

Daniel waited for more, but the being turned and disappeared back into the water with hardly a splash.

With a sigh, the man headed back for the Stargate and dialed in the next address. He felt a little awkward on this solitary mission, but it was absolutely necessary that he be alone and unarmed.

He made the rounds to all the other friendly worlds on his list as quickly as possible, and when he was so weary he could barely stand, he returned to Siraket where Shannon and the rest of the team waited. 

“You look beat,” Jack observed as Daniel trudged down the steps and collapsed, panting, on the damp ground. “How’d it go?” 

“They all said they’d think about it. _Nobody_ jumped right in and said they’d help.” 

“Need a hand?” 

“Need a bed,” Daniel moaned. He moved his head enough to look around. “Where is everybody?” 

“Uh.” Jack glanced at the tent erected not far away. “We got a little complication.” 

Daniel sat up and got right to his feet. “What? Is Shannon okay?” 

“Seems to be. But we can’t stay here, Daniel. We’ve got to get to Siraket. Now. We were just discussing leaving you a note.” 

Without a word, Jackson was running toward the tent. He was breathless as he darted inside and fell to his knees beside Shannon, who sat on a sleeping bag rubbing her belly and humming. Carter sat behind her, massaging her lower back. 

“I’m back, honey,” Daniel announced, flashing a worried smile. 

Shannon frowned at him. “I can see that.” 

Putting his hands on her abdomen, he felt the hard mass of growing child, searching for recognizable shapes of head, shoulder or foot. Instead, he felt a surge of tension, starting at the top and moving downward. His mouth fell open, and he stared at his hand. “That was a contraction!” 

“Well, duh!” Carter frowned at him. “So far, they’re every ten minutes or so.” 

He smiled broadly into Shannon’s eyes. “Time to go, baby.” 

She pushed his hand away. “I’m _not_ going through that bloody ‘gate while I’m in labor, Daniel Jackson! I don’t care if you _are_ the bloody Mandanu.” 

“We can’t stay here,” Daniel assured her. “This was just going to be a stopover. We have to go now, before the contractions get any closer. You can walk between them or I can carry you. There’s medical personnel on Siraket and none here, so we’re going. Period.” 

Frowning mightily, Shannon struggled to her feet. “I’m not forgiving you for this, you know.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he teased, smiling as he took her hand and put his arm around her shoulders to walk her to the ‘gate.

He glanced over his shoulder at the Jaffa standing guard near the tent doorway. “Wanna dial up for us, Teal’c?” 

“I do.” The alien jogged to the DHD and input the coordinates, and by the time the rest of them made it to the ramp, the event horizon had stabilized. 

“Carter, you go with ‘em to the infirmary. Teal’c and I’ll stay here and pack up our gear. We’ll be there shortly.” Jack gave them a tense smile and waved them through. 

“Here we go again,” said Daniel as he ushered Shannon through the wormhole. 

She fell on her hands and knees on the ground at the base of the ‘gate on the other end of the passage.

Daniel tried to help her up, but she snarled at him as a contraction seized her.

“Breathe,” he ordered, stroking her back until it passed.

She obeyed as she had been conditioned in the labor classes, panting and blowing in the patterns for controlling her bodily responses. 

After a minute, she pushed up to her knees and sighed. “Let’s see if we can get the rest of the way there, now, shall we?” She rose ungracefully and began to waddle toward the stream, wading through it rather than make any attempt to balance on the rocks and keep her feet dry. 

Sam jogged ahead of them across the plain to one of the Quonset huts, checking the horizon for possible threats.

 Engineering teams were stationed on Siraket now, still trying to crack the secrets of the mothership killer under the water, so there was a lively community there, but the Goa’uld might not be finished with the planet yet. Security forces were everywhere, and many eyes followed them to the temple entrance. 

Daniel escorted Shannon inside the infirmary, advising the receiving nurse that they had a patient in labor. 

“I can’t believe we’re back here,” Shannon said between clenched teeth, smothering a groan as another contraction hit. 

“Scene of the crime,” Daniel joked gently. 

The nurse took Shannon to a bed and drew the curtain around it, got her changed into a gown and brought Daniel in to join her. Then she hooked up all the monitoring equipment and peered under the sheet across Shannon’s lap. 

“Dilation and effacement?” asked Daniel, and nodded when he got the numbers. 

She gave the happy couple the information. “We’re not really equipped for this here,” Nurse Davis admitted. “But everyone’s excited that Doctor Jackson’s baby is going to be the first SGC member with a baby born on another planet.” She glanced at his robes and left with a word of encouragement and a promise to be back soon. 

“I wish people would stop looking at me like…” 

“Like you’re the Mandanu, Daniel? You’ve _got_ to get over that! Think of it as being an ambassador from Earth, okay?” Shannon was sweating, her cheeks red from exertion as she panted through another contraction. 

That felt right. “Okay. I can do that.” He shot her a grateful smile. 

“This is it, isn’t it, love? We’re really going to be parents?” 

He kissed her forehead. “Can’t put it off now,” he teased. 

“What if something goes wrong?” 

He kissed her again, on the cheek, while his arms slid around her shoulders. “That’s why we’re here with doctors and not in that tent with me as your midwife.” 

“What if we can’t open the portal to Ninth Space again?” 

“We’ll figure something out, Shannon. Don’t worry about _anything_ right now. We’re gonna have a baby in just a little while. We’ll be able to hold it and see its face.” 

She groaned with another contraction. “How soon?” 

“Judging by the rate of contractions, I’d say soon. They’re every three minutes or so now. Labor’s progressing pretty fast.” 

“So does that mean hours, minutes, days? Oh!” She clutched at him, groaning. 

His hand settled on her belly. “That’s a strong one. Breathe. Don’t push yet. It’s not time.” 

He wasn’t worried at all. He felt unnaturally calm, confident that this was all going to be perfect. 

“Not much longer now. Breathe.” He moved up behind her, and then helping her to a sitting position, bracing her from behind. 

He remembered Sha’uri, sitting in the same position with her when he had delivered her son. He remembered how much he had loved her in that moment, and felt the same intensity as he held Shannon. What he felt for this woman was different from what had been in his heart for Sha’uri, but it was no less real.

Shannon brought him joy, as Sha’uri had. But she also made him think, helped him solve problems, things Sha’uri had never truly been able to do. 

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her cheek and shoulder as another hard contraction hit.

For what seemed like hours he worked with her, exhausted beyond words, yet with every breath, with every movement, fresh energy surged through him.

She cried out and he encouraged her, told her how beautiful she was and how much he cared. He described how their life would be together, raising their child on an Earth free of the threat of alien evil. 

She seemed to grow weaker, wearying with work her body was doing.

The nurse did another check, then stepped out to call the doctor. “Baby’s crowning!” she announced as Doctor Yeats stepped into the curtained area.

“Here we go!” he murmured to his wife, and kissed her sweaty hair.

Shannon nodded, leaning back on her elbows, too tired to speak. 

He felt so full inside just then, so perfectly happy.

Yeats took charge as he checked beneath the drape. “Time to push, Shannon. Come on, just a little more. We’re almost there.” 

“Come on, baby, we can do this!” Daniel cheered her. He kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear how much he loved her. 

Shannon turned her head, smiling as she peered at her husband over her shoulder.

 “Danny, love, you’re glowing.” 

He glanced down at his hands. 

The doctor and nurse stared. 

All around them, his aurora lit up the room, and a moment later, hers did, too. 

He slipped out from behind her just enough for her to get a good look at him, beaming back at her. “ _Now_ do you believe me?” 

She nodded and grimaced, leaning forward, curling up on herself as she struggled to push the baby out. 

Daniel glanced down at the doctor’s hands and watched the baby’s head pop out, streaked with dark fluids and fine, dark hair.

“We’ve got a head!” Yeats announced. “Push really hard on the next contraction, Shannon.” 

“Almost there, baby,” Daniel gusted. He couldn’t distract her by getting back into position, so he just let her squeeze his hands till he thought he could hear the bones breaking. The pain was nothing, compared to his joy. 

“Shut the fuck _up!”_ Shannon screamed, falling back into his arms as the contraction passed. She panted, trying hard to catch her breath and whimpering from exhaustion. 

“Not quite there,” said Yeats. 

“Okay, honey, one more good push and we’re almost done.” 

Shannon screamed as she complied, bending her body, with Daniel’s help, to assist her uterine muscles in doing their job. 

“It’s a girl!” Daniel cried, beaming as the baby slid out into the doctor’s hands.

Yeats lifted the newborn onto Shannon’s belly while the nurse performed the APGAR test, suctioned out the baby’s nostrils and received a lusty cry for her efforts. 

“Oh, look at you, my lovely,” Shannon gushed. “She’s got my eyes and your mouth.”

Daniel kissed his wife, his heart overflowing with love and joy. “We never did agree on a name,” he prompted. 

“Sha’uri,” she whispered. “Reyenne. What if we run them both together?” 

“Shaurienne,” he repeated, and kissed her cheek. “Like that?” His heart ready to explode with love, sorrow, joy and grief. 

“Shaurienne Jackson.” She smiled wearily. “Got a ring to it.” 

“That is why I love you, Shannon,” he whispered. “You understand. You get _all_ of it, the Big Picture view of me.”

Nodding against the pillow, she agreed as a tear seeped across her temple. “I do, Danny love. I do.” 

“Would you like to cut the cord, daddy?” asked Yeats, a smile behind his face mask.

“Oh, hell, yeah!” Daniel crowed.

“One more push, Shannon,” the doctor said. “Get the placenta out and you can get some rest, okay?”

Daniel cut the cord and the nurse took the baby off to the side, wrapped her in a blanket and handed her back to Daniel’s waiting arms. 

He studied the tiny being in his arms and saw her eyes open. She inhaled softly and made no sound at all. Her breathing was regular and strong, and she seemed alert. “Welcome to the universe, little one.” He kissed her forehead before turning his attention back to his wife. 

She was panting, lying back on the bed bonelessly. “I can’t. I can’t. I’m done.” 

“You have to pass the placenta, baby. Come on. One more push.” Daniel could see how exhausted she was.

Then he noticed her coloring was off, on the gray side. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went limp. 

“Oh, God,” he whispered. 

The monitors went crazy. Yeats and Davis leaped into action, working on the unconscious woman.

Daniel stepped back, out of the way, rocking the baby in his arms while his heart seized up inside him.

More medical personnel darted in to help. 

He stepped out of the partitioned area and found a quiet place to sit and wait. 

It felt like eternity passed.

Doctor Yeats stood above him, talking, but Daniel didn’t hear much of it, like the man was speaking into a barrel and Daniel’s ears were full of cotton. 

“…pulmonary edema…” 

“…did our best to save her…” 

“…very sorry…” 

The baby stretched and gave a soft, sweet cry, drawing his attention to her tiny face.

Yeats went away.

Then Jack appeared, calling his name.

Daniel stood up, handed the baby over to his friend and walked out of the infirmary all the way to the ocean. The surf rolled over his feet, but he didn’t feel the warm water soaking into the leather sandals. He took another step, then another, until the water was up to his knees. 

It would be easy. Just keep walking, keep swimming until he was too far from shore to go back. 

“Daniel Jackson.” 

Teal’c stood beside him in the water. 

“There’s only so much heartbreak a man can take,” Daniel observed, his voice sounding hollow in his ears. “I think I’m done now.” 

A warm, large hand closed over his shoulder. 

“That which does not kill us,” intoned the Jaffa, “makes us stronger. I believe you are unbreakable.”

Daniel sighed. He couldn’t feel anything now. “Well, I’m not. I’m broken beyond repair, Teal’c. I’m tired, and right now, I’ve had enough. I just want to die.” 

From his other side, Jack placed the squirming baby against his friend’s chest. 

She had been cleaned, diapered and swaddled in a pillowcase. 

“Live for _her_ ,” he advised. “She needs her father.” 

Daniel opened his eyes and tears flowed freely, silently from them as he clutched the newborn in his arms.

The fracture eased, some of the pieces of his soul settling back into place, but there was still a gaping hole where Shannon had been.

She was gone, and he had to be there for their daughter. He would not allow a repeat of his childhood with her. She had to be kept safe, and to ensure that, there was only one place for Shaurienne. 

Daniel nodded. He embraced both of his friends, the child resting in the hollow between their bodies. 

With his heart aching and his head high, he trudged out of the water and back to the infirmary. 

Doctor Yeats’ face clearly revealed his skepticism as Daniel explained what he wanted, but with Jack’s agreement, the medical staff saw to cleaning up Shannon’s body and laying her out on a stretcher. Sam helped, tears streaming down her face as she arranged Shannon’s hair on the thin pillow. 

Jack and Teal’c carried the body up the slope, into the temple, and all the way to the Storehouse. 

“I’m not sure how we’re going to activate the keys,” Daniel murmured, staring at the glyph for ‘love’ on the wall. 

The baby cooed, drawing all eyes to her tiny face. 

“Look at her!” Sam peered closer. “Daniel, she’s glowing. Just like…” She looked at Jack, then at Teal’c, then at her own hands. “We’re _all_ glowing.” 

And so was the design on the floor. The whole room was lit up as bright as day… and then they were standing in Ninth Space with the sun shining and a gentle breeze bending the grass and making the trees dance. 

“We love each other,” Daniel sniffed. “But I don’t understand how we opened the portal. _Love_ was the only key we could have turned. We weren’t singing. We weren’t dancing or laughing. And nobody was playing.” 

“The keys are in your hearts,” said a voice from nearby. A bright spot floated in the air beside Shannon’s body. “That you are capable of embracing the keys is enough.” 

“Wish we’d known that a little sooner,” Jack shot back, reproach in his tone. He nodded at Teal’c and they set the stretcher on the soft grass. 

Daniel’s eyes followed the movement. His heart ached, but a sliver of hope shot through with a memory of the Nox. He squinted as he focused on the bright spot. 

“Can you help my wife?” he asked softly. “Please? I love her. I _need_ her.” 

“You are the Mandanu,” said the Light. “You must return. Your mission is not yet fulfilled.” 

He nodded. “You have asked a lot of me. Now it’s my turn to ask something of you.” 

The child in his arms squawked delicately, but he didn’t look at her, just concentrating on the light. 

“I can’t do what you want without my family. I can’t walk around with my heart broken and try to mend everyone else’s. I _need_ my wife. I need my baby, and I have to know they’re safe. That’s why I brought them to you.” 

The numbness cracked. He felt himself slipping and fell to his knees beside the stretcher.

“Please,” he whispered, tenderly settling the baby beside her mother. 

He felt his friends moving closer. Fingers brushed his robe. A hand settled on his head. 

Jack’s voice was tender, edged in sorrow. “He can’t take any more pain. He just can’t. If you want him to be this Mandanu, give him what he asks.” 

Daniel closed his eyes, unable to speak past the tightness in his throat. 

“Look, Daniel.” 

Jack’s voice compelled him to open his eyes. 

Shannon’s eyes were open, alarm in her expression. “Danny, was I…” 

He nodded, and smiled painfully through his tears. “They gave you back to me,” he wept, grimacing as he leaned down to kiss her. “Oh, Shannon, I love you. I need you. Oh, God…” 

“Hey, you’re squashing the baby,” the redhead admonished gently, pushing him back a little. 

Instantly, Daniel sat up, eyes wide, hands flailing.   
  
Jack helped Shannon sit so she could hold her daughter. “I don’t know when I’ve ever felt better, Danny love. Are you okay?” she murmured, and kissed the corner of his mouth. 

He nodded, unable to speak, and wrapped his arms around them, rocking them gently. 

“I need to feed Shaurienne,” Shannon whispered in his ear a few moments later. 

“You know what to do?” he asked, sniffling. 

She grinned at him. “So you’re a nursing coach, too?” 

He wiped his nose on a handkerchief that appeared from Jack’s direction. “I studied it, yeah. To go along with the midwifery, you know.” 

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want an incomplete education.” She kissed him again. “We’ll be fine. I promise.” 

The light that was the Ancients spoke gently. “We will care for your family. They will be safe, until they may be returned to you.” 

He nodded and said nothing. “Thank you. Thank you for everything. I’ll do my best to do the task you’ve assigned me.” He turned to Shannon as he rose. “Her middle name is Hope, Shannon, because she’s mine. My Hope.” 

He helped her stand, and blinding radiance enveloped her and the child, leaving only emptiness in their wake. 

In the next instant, they were back in the Storehouse on Siraket, but it was dark. 

Daniel heard the others start walking, their boot soles scuffing the stone floor. 

He stood very still, reaching out with both hands to feel around himself. 

“Are the lights out?” he asked, confused. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Jack shot back. “It’s just like we left it.” 

“I can’t see, Jack.” 

He felt the other man’s hand waving in front of his face. 

“Shit. Didn’t you look away when Shannon went all high-beam?” Jack’s hand wrapped around his upper arm and led him forward. 

“Don’t walk me into any walls or anything. And no, I didn’t. I figure it’ll pass.” 

“And if it doesn’t, maybe you can use that healing device thingie on yourself,” Sam suggested. “Or I could give it a shot.” 

“It’ll pass,” Daniel said confidently. “But for now, we go home.”  
  
”Right this way, Mandanu Jackson.” 

Daniel let Jack lead him down the corridors of the temple, and felt the warm sun on his face when they emerged outdoors again.

He smiled as he remembered what had just taken place, and closed his mind to bring the memories into clearer focus.

“I’m a father,” he whispered in awe. 

“Congrats on that, by the way.” Jack gave his arm a little squeeze. “I hear girls are easy to raise, till they get to be teenagers. Then you want to neuter every teenage boy on the planet.” 

“My daughter’s _never_ going to date,” Daniel affirmed placidly. 

“Hah!” Sam shot back. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “She’ll have you wrapped around her little finger inside of two minutes. You’ll do anything she asks.” 

“Probably.” Daniel couldn’t imagine that time, when his newborn baby would be a little girl, much less a developing woman. “You’ll help us, raise her, won’t you, Sam? I mean, you’re already an experienced aunt.” 

A warm kiss landed on his cheek as they walked. “Of course I will, Daniel.” 

“I guess that makes you and Jack uncles, Teal’c.” 

“I am honored.”

“Don’t be so effusive, Teal’c,” Jack teased. 

Daniel opened his eyes and blinked. There was light now, images of landscape coming in around the edges, at first only in shades of gray. Then colors began to seep in as the blackness faded. 

“I can see. It’s coming back,” he reported. 

The team left the temple, strolling unhurriedly toward the Stargate, and home. 

The Mandanu walked with his head down, humbled by the miracles that seasoned his life daily. If there were a great plan in action, he just hoped he would be up to the task. Straightening his shoulders, he lifted his chin and decided that, whatever lay ahead, he would do his best to live up to the great honor being paid to him. 

Even if it cost him his life, especially now that he had everything to live for.

He wanted his family to be proud of him.

 

* * *

 

**_13 March_ ** _  
_

Lord Hu saw the reminder scroll up inside the bubble where he sat. He observed the sleeping man for a moment longer, his heart aching, already aware what the day would hold for him. The Furling shook his head, glancing at the wedding photograph by the bedside. 

He remembered Shannon fondly, for he had been the one to train her when she’d been taken from her team on the Furling home world. First, he had gained her trust, and then he had taken her to places and times that had helped him illustrate how vital her training would become. 

Hu had taken her back to the beginning, when the carving on Siraket had been fresh and smooth. He’d spoken openly with her about his people, about what they had learned over the eons, and where the many roads in the universe led, knowing she would remember none of it until the time came for it to be important. Then he had taken her to the dead world of the Tejennans, scrolled back time and let her see the beginning, then last of all to witness the death of their entire race. 

In his final moments with her, he’d erased her conscious memory of their time together, and instilled within her a fear of travel through the portals. It had been important to keep the humans away from the Furling homeworld, and Shannon Murphy at Stargate Command. That was why his people had created the body double they’d sent back – to make it impossible for her to resume her life on Earth, so she could get close to Daniel Jackson, who now lay sleeping in his bed, innocent of what the future held for him. 

Now it was time for the Tau’ri to arise and embrace their destiny as the Fifth Race. 

The Mandanu had accepted his role, but had only begun his journey. 

Hu wanted to touch, just for a moment, but he could not. The bubble in which he resided prevented him from aging, kept him outside of the flow of time, yet let him observe unseen. His people had all gone out in search of the Fifth Race generations ago, and now they had been found.

 Already the Furlings would be returning to Sha’r, but Lord Hu would not be among them. 

He was needed on the First World, to watch over this one and keep him safe. 

And today, that would not be easy. 

The alarm went off beside the bed, and Daniel Jackson’s eyes opened accompanied by a groan. He reached beside him for his wife, then remembered she was with the Ancients; safe, but separated from him by necessity.

A thought of his daughter crossed his mind, and he smiled.

Then he sat up and threw off the covers, scratching his backside as he stumbled sleepily toward the shower. 

Lord Hu directed the bubble outside the cozy little house, making the slow journey to the base.

By the time he reached the lab, the impending death would already be in motion.

Timing would be critical, and there were too many variables to control.

All he could do would be to download the binary message into the proper computer, and wait.

 

* * *

 

 

“Thank you for coming, Doctor Jackson,” Kinsey said with a smarmy, false smile. “I can’t say I’ve been terribly excited about the things your teams have been bringing back, but they do, at least, qualify in the category of weaponry. To an extent.” 

Daniel frowned as he settled into the limousine seat across from the Senator. “They’ll be useful,” he assured the other man. “And we’ll need them. Soon. Things are brewing among the Goa’uld. The balance of power is changing, and that’s not good for us.” 

Kinsey cocked a pale eyebrow at him. “I’m still not sure I care to believe you, but the President has relieved Congress of the burden of financial authority over Stargate Command, so it doesn’t matter what I think any more. Apparently, those medicines your people acquired along the way have provided an alternate source of funding for Area 52. You guys are making a profit, it seems, rather than being a financial liability to the taxpayers.” 

Smiling, the archaeologist nodded. “Autonomy’s a good thing. I was glad to hear about that.” 

“Shall we celebrate with a drink?” Kinsey pulled out a bottle of water and a thermos of hot coffee. “I understand you have a serious caffeine addiction going. My aide tells me this is a very special brew of java, just for you. I don’t drink the stuff.” 

Daniel couldn’t help but be surprised by the gesture and accepted the ceramic cup, watching as the Senator poured for him, then capped the thermos and opened his water to toast. 

 “To the renewed efforts on the part of the SGC to protect the planet from alien conquest,” Kinsey mouthed, and took a big swig of water. 

The coffee was just the right temperature, not too hot or too cold, and Daniel took a healthy sip. It was an exotic blend, with just a hint of bitterness behind the rich, full coffee flavor that he so loved.

“This _is_ good,” he mused with genuine pleasure. “Thank you. But why did you want to talk just to me, and in private? I must say, I was a little suspicious about this meeting, but you’re the Senator and you’ve got clearance. So what’s on your mind?” 

Kinsey pondered, frowning as he pretended to examine his bottle of water. “You know, the Bible says we should have no other gods before the One that counts. What god do you believe in, Doctor Jackson? I mean, personally. I’ve always wanted to know about that.” 

“That’s none of your business, sir, and since it’s not _official_ business, I don’t have to discuss it with you. Next subject.”

He took another sip of coffee, letting it settle on his tongue a moment before he swallowed. 

“I take it you’re an atheist, then.” 

“And you’d be wrong. I believe in a Supreme Being, but I don’t believe you’ve met the one I talk to when I pray.” 

Kinsey’s eyes flashed with anger. They narrowed with hatred. Then that anger seemed to cool quickly, and he smiled. “Nice try, but you’re not going to bait me into an argument, Doctor. Especially about theology. I’d beat you every time.” 

Daniel drained the cup, laughing inwardly at the man’s ignorance. “That’s debatable, and beside the point. What is it about the program you want to know?” 

Kinsey reached for a briefcase on the limousine floor, opened it and rummaged around in it for a few minutes. “I got this report…” he began, “and it’s raised some questions for me. Specifically, regarding yourself, Doctor Jackson, since you wrote it.” 

There was something… _off_ about Kinsey, a gleam in his eye like a tiger about to strike. 

The car turned onto the highway and began to pick up speed.

Daniel’s head began to feel heavy, and he realized with a start that he’d been drugged.

He reached for the door handle, but Kinsey was surprisingly fast for an old man, and the medication made Daniel slower, weaker.

“Where are you taking me?” he demanded, his voice sounding far away in his own ears. 

“You’ll find out when you get there,” Kinsey promised darkly. “And if you’re who you seem to think you are, you can tell me about how it was when you get back. If not…”

He laughed, and the sound of it was alarming.

“If not, you’ve got a heck of a surprise coming, Messiah.” 

Daniel slipped against the seat, trying to fight off the drug, but failing.

 

* * *

 

 

He awakened in the bright sunshine, lying on something hard and rough. His clothes were gone, except for a little piece of something wrapped around his waist and draped between his legs. He tried to move and found his arms and legs were tied to unfinished wooden planks.

He lifted his head and tried to figure out where he was.

There was nothing but empty landscape all around… and Senator Kinsey sitting on a small tractor nearby. 

“Good,” the old man said cheerfully. “You’re awake. I’ve been waiting for that.”

He rose, bent to pick up something on the ground, and marched purposefully toward the man on the ground.

There was a terrible light in his eyes, gleaming with internal fire.

He looked quite mad. 

Daniel saw the objects in Kinsey’s hands and felt a thrill of terror shiver up his spine.

The Senator held a small sledgehammer in his left hand, and in his right were three long, pointed spikes, one nearly a foot in length.

A horrible idea popped into Daniel’s brain, and he quailed at the thought, studied how he was bound to the planks, and understood Kinsey’s remark in the car.

_“You’ve got a heck of a surprise coming, Messiah.”_

Kinsey was going to _crucify_ him!

He had to get away, but the ropes were tight and held him firmly in place. He had to try to negotiate, hope he could convince the madman to let him go.

“Look, Senator, I don’t know what this is all about, but—“ 

“This is a _lesson_ , Doctor Jackson _,”_ Kinsey snapped, his voice dripping with hatred. _“Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. Thou shalt have no other gods before me._ And you _certainly_ shall not impersonate Him!” 

“I wasn’t. I didn’t!” Daniel promised. “Look, I didn’t make up that prophecy, I just researched it! The Ancients gave me that robe. They said it was me. I didn’t ask for any of this, I swear!”

Kinsey knelt near Daniel’s feet, which had been stacked on top of each other against a short block of wood beneath his soles, cinched down with leather binding that kept them in place.

“No, please, don’t do this!” 

“You think you’re so great, you arrogant son of a--” Kinsey growled, cutting himself off before uttering a swear word. “Think you’re God’s gift to the universe…” He picked up the longest spike, positioned it against the young man’s instep, aimed the hammer and struck it with all his might. 

Daniel howled with pain as the point entered his right foot, sliding deeply between the bones. “Oh, God, stop!” he cried. _“What are you doing?”_

“You’re the Messiah, the Great Mediator, the Instrument of Justice,” Kinsey said sarcastically as he prepared to give the hammer another whack. “You tell me. Isn’t this a _tradition_ for princes of peace?” 

_“Noooooo!”_ Daniel couldn’t stop screaming. The spike penetrated both of his feet, then drove into the wood block beneath. 

Kinsey kept hammering it, using both hands to accomplish the task until he was satisfied it was deep enough. He picked up another spike and knelt by Daniel’s left hand, positioning it in the middle of the wrist. 

Daniel jerked at his arms, desperately trying to free himself, but the bonds were so tight they had cut off the circulation to his hands. 

The spike slammed into the wood with the first stroke, right between the bones in his wrist. The pain was unimaginable, so fierce and blinding Daniel couldn’t see, could barely breathe. He couldn’t stop screaming, but that evil voice kept talking to him, rising in volume so he could hear above the noise of hammering. 

“Lots of people think Jesus was crucified with the nails in the middle of his palms, but that’s not physically possible,” Kinsey lectured him. “The weight of the body on that kind of delicate tissues would pull the nails right out, so the Romans put them in the wrists instead, where the bones and ligaments would support a man’s weight.” 

“Oh, God!” Daniel begged, in agony as he tried to pull himself free. His hands flexed, but the movement of his fingers sent fresh, bright spears of torture into his arm. “Please, stop! I didn’t do anything.” 

Kinsey shot him a glance filled with false surprise. “You didn’t? I thought you were The Winnower who separates the wheat from the chaff, the prophesied Healer of the universe? That report I showed you, remember? It’s all about the second coming, the apocalypse that these aliens are bringing to our doorstep. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice, Doctor Jackson. You are a Biblical scholar, right? In addition to all your other talents.” 

There was so much pain Daniel couldn’t think. Tears streamed across his temples and into his hair. “I never said I was the Son of God—“ 

“You didn’t have to,” Kinsey cut him off. “Everybody else is saying it for you. The parallels are there, right there in that report.”

He stepped over Daniel’s squirming body and held the last spike in place. “Everybody’s thinking this is the Apocalypse, and you’re the promised Messiah. I’m going to show them you’re not. It’s my duty as a Christian to silence false prophets, and you are the worst kind.”

He smiled at the screaming man, and hit the third spike with a vengeance. 

Daniel blacked out from the pain.

 

* * *

 

 

Kinsey backed off and studied his handiwork, satisfied he’d done it right. Then he mounted the little tractor and started it up, carefully playing out the slack in the chain until it was taut. He ignored the noise as his subject roused, watching over his shoulder as the huge wooden cross began to slide forward, the long end of it dropping down into a prepared hole. It dropped into place vertically with a satisfying _thunk_ , accompanied by another gut-wrenching scream. 

The old man took a shovel and began to fill in loose dirt around the base of the cross.

“You know, the Lamb of God didn’t actually die of blood loss,” he mused, loud enough to be heard over the screams. “No, hanging like that, the position of the body plus gravity puts such a load on the diaphragm that you slowly suffocate.”

He glanced up at his victim. “You’re a young man in good physical shape. I expect it’ll take quite a long time.” He laughed darkly. “For the Divine Judge, maybe longer than what it would take any other mere _mortal_ man.” 

“God, please, Kinsey! I’m not Jesus. I never said I was.” Daniel’s voice was hoarse and faint, burned out by the ferocity of his screams. “Get me down, please! Oh, God, somebody get me down!”

Tears streamed down his face as he pleaded for mercy. 

“You should be begging _God_ for absolution, not me.” Kinsey tamped down the last shovel full of dirt and dropped the tool on the ground.

From a small box nearby, he lifted out a crown of thorns. He positioned the tractor beneath one of the arms of the cross and put the machine in park, taking care to set the hand brake firmly. Climbing carefully on top of the motor housing, he balanced long enough to jam the thing onto Daniel’s head, bringing fresh wails from the new, small pains of penetration. 

“Why?” Daniel demanded, sobbing wildly. “I haven’t done anything!” 

“That’s okay,” Kinsey assured him calmly. “Jesus was innocent, too.”

He hopped off the tractor and picked up a large butcher knife from the same box that had held the crown of thorns. “I’m foregoing the sign up top, because you’ve made no claim to be king of the Jews. Lucky you.”

Kinsey contemplated the picture as he peeled off the tough leather work-gloves that had protected his hands from the thorns. 

Daniel managed to open his eyes long enough to find Kinsey. He could feel the tissues tearing as gravity pulled his flesh against the spikes. It was getting hard to breathe, and he tried valiantly to push against the wood with his feet, to inch his body upward so he could inhale, but the pain was too great and he had to give up, letting his body hang on the spikes through his arms. Blood dripped into his eyes, blinding him for a moment, but not before he saw Kinsey’s face, and the loathing gleaming back at him from that madman’s eyes.

He gazed skyward and whispered a prayer with what remained of his voice. “Please… take care of Shannon and the baby…” 

Kinsey’s face twisted up into a mask of disgust. “That’s another difference between you and the Nazarene, my young friend – he was not only unmarried, but a virgin. Plus, you’re a few years too _old_.”

He grinned. “But you won’t be getting any older.”

He glanced at the flash of sunlight on the blade, positioned it carefully beneath Daniel’s ribs, and pushed it in. 

“Stop! Oh, God, stop…” Daniel screamed until his voice disappeared.

He sobbed as he hung on the cross, a flood of tears dripping off his face onto his chest. He leaned his head back against the wood, praying to die, to be rescued, for _any_ kind of end to the torment being inflicted on him.

It went on in the bright sunshine, each moment dragging slowly on to the next. 

Kinsey withdrew the blade at a snail’s pace and shook the blood off his hand. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dropped the knife into the box and began to wipe the gore from his hand.

 _“For unto us a child is born,”_ he recited, _“to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”_

He glared upward. “He will _not_ be called Doctor Daniel Jackson, no matter how divine a judge he thinks he is.” 

“I don’t,” Daniel whispered. “I never said I was anything…” 

“And you’re _not_ ,” Kinsey assured him. “You’re _nothing_ , in the eyes of God. Nothing but a fraud too full of himself to be allowed to live.” 

Kinsey backed the tractor up, took a seat on it, and prepared to wait for Daniel’s last breath.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam’s head bent over the microscope as she analyzed the mineral deposit from their latest off-world exploration. She glanced at her watch, wondering what was holding Daniel up. The whole team had been waiting for him to arrive on the base for a briefing, but he was hours late and that wasn’t like him. She’d phoned him three times already, with no answer, and it was starting to worry her.

She turned off the equipment to make a trip by Colonel O’Neill’s office to check in with him. 

“No, I haven’t seen or heard from him either,” Jack frowned. “I just got back from his house, and his car’s still there. So’s Shannon’s, but there’s no one home. I’m thinkin’ that’s not a good sign.” 

The worry in his eyes was very real. 

“Okay. I’ll round up Teal’c and go by my office to check messages, just in case. Then I’ll meet you back here and we’ll go hunting.” She hurried down the corridor and played back her voicemail, then hit the spacebar on her computer to disengage the screensaver to look for emails. 

The screen was black, except for a message typed in white letters. Coordinates in longitude and latitude made up the first two lines. The third sent a shockwave through her. 

_Daniel is dying. Hurry.  
_

She picked up her phone and called Jack’s extension. He picked up on the third ring, and she relayed the message.

Moments later, she had pinpointed the location on a map and ran all the way to the parking lot, barely taking time to sign out as she left the stations.

She was breathless and sweating, her heart in her throat as she climbed into the cab of the Colonel’s pickup beside Teal’c. 

“Call Hammond,” Jack ordered. “Tell him where we’re going and why. Have them look into who sent you that message, just in case it’s a hoax.” 

“I hope to God it is,” she murmured, reaching into her pants pocket for her cell phone. 

The place was way out in the country, miles outside the city.

Jack didn’t bother opening gates – he simply drove through them.

All of them could feel it – the sense of urgency that melded them into a single, focused unit with one goal: saving the life of one of their own. The blacktop road stopped at a new steel gate, which Sam opened quickly, and beyond that a dirt track led away into the wilderness, winding around a stand of trees and out into an open pasture.

They rounded the wooded area and saw the structure in the distance, and the man standing in the tall grass in its shadow.

Sam screamed.

Jack shouted an obscenity as he gunned the truck to top speed, closing the acre of space between them and the cross.

 

* * *

 

 

The truck skidded to a stop, sending clods of dirt flying in all directions.

Kinsey stood at the foot of the cross, smiling up at the body hanging there as if he hadn’t heard the interlopers arrive on the scene.

His serene smile expressed the righteousness he felt in his heart as he faced the new arrivals… and then he landed flat on his back as Major Carter tackled him and started using his face for a punching bag. 

“I’ve saved you!” he protested, warding off her fists with his forearms. 

“I’ll kill you, you bastard!” Sam roared. 

“Carter!” The Colonel shouted. “Here, now!”

He was already kneeling at the base, his fingers digging into the loose dirt. Teal’c pushed against the wood with all his strength, and slowly the structure tipped backward until it sat at an angle. Carter hooked the chains up to the tractor and drove it behind the cross, gunning the little engine until the base began to slide slowly out of the ground. 

The flat back landed with a thump on the dirt, but Daniel didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. 

Jack straddled his body, pressing his fingers against Daniel’s throat to feel for a pulse.

“Shit,” he spat, and put his face down close to feel for breath.

“CPR, Carter,” he ordered, stepping over the body and kneeling over Daniel’s white face. He pinched the nostrils closed and placed his mouth on Daniel’s, exhaling into him. In his peripheral vision he saw Carter’s hands lock together and begin compressions over his chest.

Three breaths, and Jack raised up long enough to order Teal’c to phone for help. 

He didn’t look at the Jaffa, already knowing that the big guy would be dealing with the Senator in his own way.

“Don’t kill Kinsey,” Jack shouted between breaths, but in his heart he hoped that order would be ignored. At the moment, the Senator was the least of their worries.

But other priorities became clear as he and Carter worked on their friend.

“Teal’c, get over here and get these spikes out.”

Jack worked on Daniel until he grew light-headed from the breathing, praying as he worked for his friend that it wasn’t too late.

“Switch with me, Carter,” he ordered, and traded places with her between sets as the whine of an ambulance siren sounded not far away. 

Looking up at last, he saw that Teal’c had completed his first task and had the senator on his knees, one hand twisted up behind the man’s back, cell phone pressed to the Jaffa’s ear as he gave instructions to the emergency crews just arriving.

Jack kept working until the EMTs made him stop, taking over the duty with professional precision as a police car rolled up on the scene.

With his heart in his throat, the Colonel watched as his friend was removed from the cross and loaded into the ambulance.

“Go, Carter,” he advised the woman at his side. “I’ll take care of the garbage.” 

Like lightning she was into the back of the ambulance, and the truck headed off down the dirt road, bound for the closest hospital. 

Jack met Kinsey’s eyes, cold rage freezing his soul.

“What they’ll do to you isn’t nearly justice,” he murmured softly to the Senator. “You’ll get preferential treatment, maybe even a short sentence. Hell, you might even get off completely and wind up in a mental hospital.”

O’Neill glanced at the bloodstained cross, thankful that Daniel had been unconscious when Teal’c had pulled out the spikes.

Turning back to face Kinsey as the cops cuffed him, Jack felt his voice deepen with emotion he could barely contain. “If Daniel dies, sir, no matter _where_ they put you, you will _never_ be out of reach. And you’ll have a whole universe full of folks wanting to know where you are.” 

“You don’t scare me, Colonel,” Kinsey sneered, fire in his eyes. “I did you all a favor. I killed the antichrist!” 

“Nope. He’s still comin’, one day. So’s the Promised One. But till the Son of God sees fit to grace us with his presence, we’ve got a whole _other_ kind of apocalypse comin’ and you may have just killed the _only_ person who could have sent the old gods to hell.”

He chose his words carefully, aware of the police surrounding them, while silently reminded the Senator to be circumspect in his response with a glance at the nearby uniforms. 

He watched and listened as Kinsey was Mirandized and tucked carefully into the back of a police car, then stood by as evidence was gathered, and answered questions for the detectives on the scene.

It was almost sundown when his cell phone rang. He answered it on the first ring, heedless of the fact that he had Daniel’s blood all over his hands. He turned away from the cop interviewing him in mid-question.

“O’Neill,” he barked into the microphone. 

“He’s alive,” Carter reported. “But just barely.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Jack breathed, and bent over as relief flooded through him. “Stay with him, Sam.” 

“I will.”

He bowed his head for a brief prayer.

Jack’s eyes sought out Teal’c, standing at parade rest nearby. He gave a solemn thumbs up, unable to give a more confident report than that. The Jaffa nodded, and the tenseness in his expression eased slightly. 

Hours later, Jack drove them to the hospital and they joined Carter in the corridor outside the ER.

She looked like hell, and he told her so.

“They haven’t told me anything in a while,” she complained. “I’m starting to get worried. He’s been in surgery for a couple hours already.” 

“He was a mess,” Jack began, and stopped his description as visions of torn flesh and spilled blood surfaced in his memory. “I _so_ wanted to kill Kinsey. And the more I think about what he did, the more I want to remedy the fact that he’s still alive.” 

Sam put a hand on his arm. “We have to leave it to the authorities. We have to let the system work.” 

“Or fail.” Teal’c arched an eyebrow. “And if it does…” 

Grim smiles lit the other two faces, and three heads nodded in unison. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jack agreed with hushed enthusiasm. “Did anybody call Hammond and let him know what was going on?” 

“I did,” answered Sam. “While I was waiting. I think I must have called half the base... Kinsey apparently had this planned for a while. What I can’t figure is who sent me that message.” 

“I don’t really care, except maybe that I owe ‘em a big thank you,” Jack murmured. 

“Major Carter?” 

The whole group turned at the address, and a man wearing sweaty green scrubs emerged from the operating room. 

“Hi. I’m Doctor Nathaniel Howe. Your friend’s a pretty tough guy. It’s still going to be touch and go for a while, but things look positive.” 

“What does that mean, exactly?” Jack demanded. “Is he going to be all right, or isn’t he?” 

The surgeon’s expression was grave. “We’re not sure yet. He lost a lot of blood. There was a great deal of damage to his internal organs, feet and arms, and he may need to go through several additional surgeries with specialists to repair those trauma sites. But he’s hanging in there. He’s fighting, and that’s good.” 

“Daniel Jackson is a great warrior,” Teal’c observed proudly. “He will live.” 

Jack clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Daniel’s a pretty important guy, where we come from. What are his chances?” 

Shaking his head, Doctor Howe glanced down at the floor for a moment. “If he makes it through the next forty-eight hours, he may pull through. But there are still factors that could cause complications. Just so you’re aware.”

The doctor eyed Jack, as the authority figure. “Who did this to him, anyway? He looks like he’s been crucified. There were even wood splinters in some of the wounds.” 

“He was,” Sam told him, her eyes gleaming with fury. “By Senator Kinsey, religious fanatic that he is. He thought Daniel was the antichrist.” 

Doctor Howe’s mouth dropped open. “And I voted for him! Jeez, I didn’t know he was nuts.” 

“Word just got out,” said Jack with a sneer and a melodramatic shake of the head. “Next time, do the research on your candidate.” 

“Crucified!” Howe muttered as he walked away. “Oh, my God.” 

Sam caught him by the arm. “Hey, when can we see Daniel?” 

“They’re moving him to a private room, once he’s out of recovery. You can see him then, but only for a few minutes.” 

“Like hell,” Jack shot back. “The nurses better get used to my ugly mug, cause I’m not leavin’ once they let me in the door. We’re setting a military guard on him. One of us three will be with him every moment he’s here.” 

Doctor Howe glanced at the set of those three stern, determined faces staring back at him. “You guys care about him an awful lot,” he observed. “He’s going to need that.” 

“He’s got it,” Sam assured him. “We’re his family.” 

The trio came together in a brief hug, and paced the hallway until a nurse came to get them. They rode the elevator in silence, arriving in the room together despite the woman’s demand that they go in one at a time.

Daniel lay on the bed covered up to his neck, eyes closed, face turned toward the window on the back wall. 

Silently the three gathered around him, each of them reaching out to touch the sleeping man fondly. The only visible evidence of his ordeal were a half dozen little scratches on his forehead, now closed with butterfly tape, but his face was unnaturally pale from blood loss and trauma.

Sam leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, and he stirred. 

He started when he realized he was conscious and alive, jerking under the covers and whispering a scream of pain. 

“Hey, settle down there, buddy,” Jack ordered. “You’ll bust your stitches loose.” 

“It’s okay, Daniel. You’re safe,” Sam assured him gently. 

“Now, you must heal,” added Teal’c wisely. “And we will be here with you, always.” 

Tears filled Daniel’s eyes and leaked unheeded out the corners. He nodded, unable to push words out his ruined throat. He tried to lift one arm, and grimaced with agony. 

“Easy, there. You need something for pain?” Jack asked, resting his hand lightly on Daniel’s shoulder. 

The younger man nodded, his eyes pleading. 

Jack pushed the button on the morphine drip and watched the drug take effect. “We got you, little bro. Nobody’s gonna to touch you again, unless they go through us first.” 

Daniel’s eyes slid closed under the influence of the medication, and he struggled to open them again.

His lips moved, and Sam leaned down to listen to the barely audible sounds. She smiled brilliantly back at him and stroked a finger delicately through his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead.

“You’re welcome,” she murmured, and kissed him again. “Just get well, okay? We’ll get you back to the base and fix you right up, I promise. I know just the folks who can help with that.” 

“Yeah. Her daddy makes house calls if we ask nice.” Jack eyed Sam. “Maybe you ought to check into that.” 

Sam’s eyes twinkled. “He’s already on the way. Should be here tomorrow.” 

Jack studied Daniel, who had lapsed into unconsciousness again. “Let’s just pray he makes it that long.”

He got on his knees beside the bed, grasped the rails and bowed his head to do just that.

 

* * *

 

People in military garb filled the halls of the hospital, poking into rooms as the administrator escorted them nervously along. “That should be all of Doctor Jackson’s test results, Doctor Frasier,” Doctor Victor assured the woman, glancing at the stack of folders in Frasier’s hands. 

Janet looked up at him sternly. “Thank you for your cooperation, sir. Now, I’ll ask that you and your nursing staff keep well away from Doctor Jackson’s room while we prepare him for transport. You have our gratitude for taking care of him so far, but he’s in our hands now.” 

Doctor Victor gave orders as the elevator deposited them on the proper floor, and stood watch at the nurse’s station as the group headed into the assigned room. 

Jack stood at attention in the back of the room. Sam roused from her position sleeping on a nearby chair, and Teal’c rose from the corner where he’d been meditating. 

“He’s not doing too good, Jacob,” Jack reported gravely, taking in the Tok’ra with a grim glance. “Better hurry.” 

Without a word, Jacob Carter retrieved the Goa’uld healing device and set to work on the man in the bed.

“Jesus,” he swore softly. He glanced up at Sam with horror in his eyes. “There’s a _lot_ of infection in there.” 

“I’m not Jesus,” Daniel mumbled without opening his eyes, his voice barely more than a breath. 

“We know, Danny,” Jack murmured, bending over the bed to pet him a little. “Just lie still and be quiet, and let Jacob fix you, so we can take you home. Okay?”

O’Neill clenched his teeth and met the Tok’ra’s eyes. “Jacob, we’re gonna need scars to show, so don’t heal him completely. Just mostly.” 

“Why?” 

The Colonel’s eyes narrowed. “For the _trial_. And there damn well better be one. I don’t want Kinsey to get off on an insanity plea, even though he really is crazy as a loon.” 

“You got it, Jack.” Jacob nodded.

Daniel moaned as the device knitted his tissues back into normal. “Sorry, Danny. You’ll feel a lot better when I’m done.” 

The young man’s eyes opened, glassy with fever and pain, and lit on Jack’s face for a moment, then on Jacob’s as he concentrated. They closed again, and he grimaced, whimpering slightly as the infection was burned away.

After a little while, his face relaxed, and everyone watching let out a sigh of relief. 

Presently, Jacob stopped. Sweat poured in rivulets off his face, and he shook his head, speaking to Janet. “That’s all I can do for the moment. The wound in his side is mostly healed, but I don’t have the strength to do more right now. We’ll have to do this in stages.”

 He sat down on the chair Sam gave up to him. His eyes were haunted. “Man, this was _bad_. It’s a good thing we weren’t delayed getting here.” His look to his daughter held tremendous meaning. 

Jack got it, too. He swallowed hard, and laid his hand back on Daniel’s shoulder. “Can we move him now?” 

Jacob nodded. “You all get him loaded and I’ll be down later. I’ve really got to rest a few minutes.” 

Janet patted the files. “I’ve got all the test results and the samples are being packaged up by our people, so nothing’s been left behind for the curious.”

She turned to address the military medical staff she’d brought with her. “Be careful with him, guys. And make sure we get the sharps container and biohazard bag from this room, too.”

Sam’s quizzical look brought a prompt response from the petite doctor.

“His bodily fluids are a matter of national security. So are yours.” 

“Oh. Yeah. I didn’t think about that.” 

“That’s why it’s _my_ job,” Janet assured her with a wink and a smile. 

The four men lifted Daniel off the bed and placed him onto the transport gurney they’d brought with them, strapped him down and moved the IV fluids to the attached pole.

On Janet’s signal, they wheeled their patient out of the room to the elevator, and out to a waiting Air Force truck, specially equipped as a field ambulance.

Jack and Janet rode with Daniel in the back while Teal’c sat up front with the driver.

Sam followed in another car with Jacob, discussing all the latest developments as they traveled back to the base. 

Once back in his regular room, Daniel opened his eyes and sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

“What is it, Daniel?” Janet asked, leaning close to hear. 

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

“Probably just a wisecrack,” Jack assured her, looking to the man on the bed for confirmation. 

Daniel nodded and shrugged. The movement jostled his forearms across his ribs, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, grimacing with pain. 

“We’ll fix that, too. Can’t talk, can’t type and can’t write. Man, that’s gotta be tough on you,” Jack observed. Then he grinned. “But at least I get to have the last word for a change.” 

Those blue eyes glared at him with an unspoken snipe. 

Frowning, Jack snapped, “Hey! I heard that.” 

Janet chuckled and shook her head, checking the drip on the IV before leaving her patient. “You boys play nice,” she advised. 

Jack pulled up a stool and sat beside the bed. “So I guess we get to listen to you not talk for a different reason now. Maybe I should be working on my mind-reading skills, huh?” 

Daniel rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“Oh! Be right back,” O’Neill blurted, and dashed out of the room.

A few minutes later, he returned bearing picture frames, and set them on a stool right beside the bed, so Daniel could see them.

One was Sha’uri’s picture that he had taken on Abydos, and the other was a wedding photo of him and Shannon smiling at the camera. 

There was gratitude in those blue eyes when they finally glanced away from the photographs. 

“You’re welcome,” said Jack softly. “See? Told ya I could read minds.” 

Daniel smiled and shook his head in wonder.

 

* * *

 **15 March**

Jacob bent over the bed and worked the device over Daniel’s throat before moving down to his feet. “How’s that, Danny?” he asked warmly. 

“Better,” Daniel agreed. “Thank you.” His voice was still raspy, but at least he could communicate. “Don’t wear yourself out, okay? Any help is appreciated.” 

“I know.” The Tok’ra man smiled. “You just rest, kiddo. I’ll have you fixed up in no time.” 

“That would be very good.” Daniel pondered what he remembered from their session earlier in the day. “How bad was it, Jacob? I remember… you said there was lots of infection.” 

“Just lie still, Danny.” 

“I’m not moving. And I want to know.” 

Jacob sighed. “Your intestines, spleen and pancreas had all been sliced open. They stitched you together pretty good, but couldn’t clean up everything inside there. From what I could tell, you were losing the battle, son.” 

“That’s what it felt like, too.” Daniel sighed, the pain in his feet easing as the wounds were reduced. “Funny how much more aware I am of my body, after… Anubis. Sometimes that’s not such a good thing.” 

Selmak responded huskily, _“It is a consequence of learning a new environment, Daniel. Senses are heightened as well. Jacob has expressed this to me on many occasions.”_

“Yeah. It’s like being new to being human sometimes.” He watched as Jacob moved up to the side of the bed and peeled the blankets back to reveal Daniel’s arms, lying still across his ribs, and began to work on them.

The healing device glowed, and Jacob was beginning to perspire. “You need to take a break, guys?” 

_“We are fine,”_ Selmak assured him with a smile. _“Let us work, and we will rest soon.”_

The Tok’ra paused. _“There is something we wished to speak with you about.”_

“I’m listening.” 

Jacob’s eyes were focused on Daniel’s body rather than his face. He looked calm but intent, focused on his work _. “When we heard you had been taken by Anubis, we wondered how much of his life you managed to see. Who he had trusted. Those whom he betrayed.”_

Daniel frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Selmac.” 

The old man sighed. _“There was a woman. We wondered what you could tell us about her.”_

“Who?” The injured man began to feel a little suspicious. 

_“Egeria.”_

Sudden pain shot through Daniel, and he groaned. 

Jacob’s hands pulled away. _“Apologies, Daniel. We had no wish to hurt you.”_

“I know,” Daniel groused. “It’s okay. I know her from his memories. What did you want to know?” 

The Tok’ra man studied his face _. “Did Anubis betray Egeria to Ra?”_

“No,” he shot back instantly. “He loved her. _Still_ loves her, Jacob. He would never have done anything to hurt her.” 

Jacob’s gaze dropped to the floor, and he nodded.

 _“We wondered,”_ Selmac admitted. _“When our mother hid us, she was wise. She knew Ra would seek us out, but she believed she was safe from his wrath. She was not.”_

“Ra killed her,” Daniel murmured, and turned his face away, grieving yet again. “And their son, the first Harsesis. Anubis was proud of the boy and wanted to offer the Goa’uld something different, a race that could be willing host or brothers, equal to them in knowledge. Only Ra didn’t think it was such a good idea.”

He closed his eyes, fighting back the memory of the child’s murder. 

_“The Tok’ra agree,”_ Selmac said softly. He leaned over the bed and placed his hand gently on Daniel’s chest, making him look up into his eyes. _“We are his children, Daniel. The Tok’ra are the offspring of Egeria and Anubis.”_

Daniel flinched at the reminder, his arms shifting across his torso. The movement sent fresh agony wrenching through him. 

Jacob’s hand settled over him once more, the healing device glowing with power as he worked.

Gradually the pain subsided, and Daniel could think again. 

He watched Jacob’s expression darken. He frowned, and narrowed his eyes. A muscle twitched in his jaw. 

“What is it?” the man on the bed asked. “I can see something’s wrong.” 

Jacob flashed him a smile meant to reassure, but it didn’t echo in his eyes.

“Something Jack said,” he answered slowly, and drew his hand away.

The device dimmed, and his arm dangled at his side for a moment.

“There’s going to be a trial. We got the word a little while ago. Senator Kinsey’s been booked for attempted murder.” 

Daniel glanced at the photos by the bed. “I really don’t want to think about Kinsey, Jacob. Not now. Hell, maybe not _ever_.” 

“The best thing you can do for your _country_ , son, is to try to put that bastard behind bars or in a mental institution.” He sighed. “And to do that, the court’s going to need to see you suffering. As hard as it is for me to even think of suggesting it, Jack may be right. If you walk into that courtroom a month from now with no signs of ever having been injured, the jury’s either going to think a miracle happened – which this is, but the general public can’t know that – or that you weren’t that badly hurt. We’ve removed the life-threatening infection, but you may be on your own for much of the rest of this.” 

Glancing down at his useless arms, Daniel frowned. “The doctor said I’d probably never have full use of my hands again. Probably only about forty percent dexterity. Do I have to keep that?” 

“Just till after the trial. Then you can have your miracle. Can you live with that?” 

“If I have to.” 

“I think it would be wise.” 

“Then I hope Kinsey gets the speedy trial promised to him by the Constitution.” Daniel stared at his arms, thinking about how he was going to do his job. “I won’t be able to hold a gun or even turn the page in a book for a while. I’m gonna be useless to SGC.” 

“No, you won’t,” Jack assured him, stepping into the room. “We’ll find ways for you to keep busy, as soon as you can manage. But right now, you need to rest and heal. I’ll bring up a TV, and introduce you to those cartoons we talked about on Siraket.” He flashed a grin. 

“Oh, gee, thanks, Jack,” Daniel shot back sarcastically. “Rot my brain. I’ll enjoy it.”

To Jacob he gave a look of gratitude for his earlier disclosure, but made no mention of it.

That would remain between the two of them. 

“See there? You’re dissin’ me. You must be feelin’ better already.” 

Jacob smiled and had a seat on the nearby chair. “I’ve done a lot, but the rest of it he needs to cover on his own. His feet are better, but he won’t be able to bear weight on them for another month or so.” 

“Well, that’s better than what the doc in the hospital offered,” Sam announced as she arrived. 

Teal’c shadowed her and took up a post on the far side of the bed, facing the door. “General Hammond requested that we meet here,” he explained. “He wanted us all together for a briefing.” 

The General strode in a moment later, his face stern and set. His grave expression lightened briefly as he saw Daniel appeared more comfortable.

“Good to have you back, Doctor Jackson,” he intoned.

He shook Jacob’s hand, now free of the healing device. “Thank you, Jake. I understand you got to him just in time.” 

The Tok’ra shrugged. “I know how important SG-1 is, George. And word of the Mandanu is spreading pretty fast. We aren't sure how, exactly, but prophets seem to be seeing visions everywhere.” 

“Which brings me to the reason I’ve called you all here,” Hammond said with a sigh.

He looked directly at Jack, then at Sam. “I’m giving you two one week to collect your necessary personal items from your homes, close up your houses and move onto the base, and I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same for Doctor Jackson. SG-1 is far too valuable to this command to risk assassination, and it appears the risks to your safety here at home are escalating. I want you protected when you’re on home turf, so you’ll have military escorts any time you’re off base. Is that understood?” 

Surprise flashed across Sam’s face. “But, sir—“ 

“No arguments, Major,” Hammond snapped. “Doctor Jackson and his wife have already been made targets. It’s not too much of a leap to guess that those closest to him will be on the same list. I’ll have quarters arranged close to Teal’c’s in the residence section, and you’ll all move in until further notice.” 

“One question, sir,” Jack cut in, holding up a finger. “Does the base have cable?” 

Everybody laughed. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sam assured him. “I know you’ve gotta have ESPN.” 

“Damn straight.” Jack’s frown was mighty. “A body’s gotta play. The Ancients said so.” 

“Sorry, you guys,” Daniel mumbled. “I didn’t ask for this, you know.” 

Jack patted his shoulder. “No, that’s not your style, bro. But them’s the breaks, and we gotta suck it up and get on with the job. Just think – we’ll be neighbors!” 

“We’re already neighbors, Jack. My house is a block away from yours.”

He turned his head wearily on the pillow to address Hamond. “So how long do you think we’ll be prisoners, sir?” 

The older man frowned and heaved a heavy sigh. “Until we know more about exactly what the ultimate purpose of the Mandanu is, I don’t have a clue. That’ll be more in your area of expertise, Doctor.” 

Daniel moved his right arm slightly, and grimaced. “That could be a while, considering I’m not worth much of anything right now.” 

Hammond smiled slightly, his eyes twinkling. “I’d say this room is full of people who’d argue that assessment.”

He nodded to the group. “Dismissed.” He turned on his heel and left. 

Turning toward the wall, Daniel closed his eyes. “Damn it.” 

“Hey, that’s _my_ line,” Jack reminded him. “Look, don’t sweat it. We don’t mind. Do we, Carter?” 

“Who’s going to take care of Zoe?” Sam asked. “I doubt the General would let her stay here.” 

“I’ll ask Logan,” Jack offered. “She loves animals.” 

“My cat’s going to hate me.” 

“She’ll get over it. Once this is all over and we can have our lives back.” 

“ _If_ we get there. Ever.” Daniel opened his eyes and stared bleakly at the ceiling. 

“We _will_ , Danny. And that’s a promise.” Jacob touched his shoulder lightly, then removed the healing device and handed it to his daughter. “And in the meantime, I need to get on the road and back to the resistance. Big things are brewing, and Osiris seems to be taking the lead among the System Lords.” 

“You wanna elaborate on that, Jacob?” Jack asked. 

“I’ll fill you in on the way to the ‘gate.” 

The two men left the infirmary together, voices hushed in quiet conversation, while Daniel wondered what his former girlfriend was planning.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack sat in the near darkness, the little book light casting its pale glow only on the page so it wouldn’t bother the sleeping man in the bed not far away. Part of his mind skimmed along on the text, reading and digesting the story, even enjoying it. But the rest of his cognitive powers were focused on several fronts: the report of gathering forces of the Goa’uld from Jacob, the impending military tribunal being set up for Kinsey, and Daniel’s condition. 

He had come breaths away from dying, twice in as many days. Jacob’s intervention had saved his life, but there was still a long, painful recovery ahead of him. And try as he might, Jack couldn’t shake the images reeling constantly through his mind of his younger friend on that cross, of those spikes being torn out of his flesh, and of Daniel’s terrified face when he awakened in the hospital. 

The Colonel heard movement, but didn’t look up from the page he was no longer reading. 

“Jack.” 

“Daniel,” he responded softly. He turned his eyes toward the bed. “Need something?” 

“I can’t do it.” Daniel was looking at the wall. Or rather, not looking at anything in the direction of the wall. 

“Can’t do what?” But he already knew what was coming. The last straw had broken the camel’s back, and there might not be any way to put a splint on it this time. 

“Be this… _thing_ the Ancients want me to be. I just can’t.” 

“Not today, Daniel. Not for a while, yet. Don’t even think about it. Okay?” He waited for those eyes to meet his. A  tear trickled from the corner of one of Daniel’s eyes into his hair, but that head never turned. 

“It won’t matter how much time passes, Jack. I can’t do it. I don’t have any strength left. I don’t have much of anything left.” His voice was so soft, so peaceful, so accepting. 

It was scary to hear. 

Jack stared at the page, but saw that cross instead. His guts clenched. He felt sick as he imagined what the pain must have been like.

He pushed that aside. “Okay. You’re not the Mandanu anymore. Feel better?”

He would say anything to relieve that burden, but he knew it wasn’t that easy. 

Daniel was silent for a long time. Then he turned to face his friend, his expression plaintive. “I guess it’s not something I can just quit, huh?” 

“You need any pain medication? I can punch the button for ya.” 

“Don’t change the subject.” He paused. “And yeah, why don’t you do that? Morphine is my friend.” 

With a grin, Jack reached over and grabbed the plunger on the IV pump, delivering another dose of the powerful pain reliever to the patient. “There ya go, bro. Why don’tcha get some sleep?” 

“Because we’re in the middle of something here.”

He sighed as the medication took effect. “Jack, I lost my wife – I lost all the women I loved in this war, including Shannon and my daughter. They’ll never be safe here, not till it’s all over. I’ve been beaten and broken and… and fucking _killed_ more times than I can count. Then I get chosen to be some mythic hero, which I can never really hope to be a success at, and now _this._ I’ve been _crucified_ , for cryin’ out loud! I can’t take any more. I quit.” 

“Now, now. There’s got to be a reason for all this cosmic Danny-whumpin’,” Jack intoned patiently. 

Jackson’s heavy brows pinched together in query. “Such as?” 

_“That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”_

Daniel stretched slightly and changed his position on the bed. He winced. “Oh, God. Now you’re quoting Neitzche at me! The world really _is_ coming to an end.” 

“I can quote a whole buncha people,” Jack shot back. “I just never remember ‘em when I need to put ‘em into the conversation. But I meant that. You’re a lot stronger now than you were when we first met. You used to be a pansy.” 

“I’m still a geek.” 

“Always will be.” 

“Even if I save the world as we know it?” 

“ _Especially_ then. ‘Cause you’ll do it the Daniel way, rather than the action hero way, like I’d do it.” 

Daniel snorted a whispery laugh. His gaze roved over his bandaged arms. “I still can’t do it.” 

“Nah, not yet. It isn’t time.” 

“You know what’s coming, don’t you?” 

Jack closed the book and regarded the shadows in the far corner of the room. ”Yeah.”

He could see visions of multitudes of _ha’taks_ and fire raining down from the sky, of people running on the ground and screaming just before they were broiled alive.

He closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to force the images away. 

_Daniel’s body, limp on the wooden beams. No breath. No pulse. No heartbeat._

He got up, and started to pace the room, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the floor. 

“It scares me, Jack. We’re not ready for them, and they’re coming. No one’s going to help us.” 

“I know.” He stepped up beside the bed, a fire burning inside him as he leaned over the chrome rails. “But we’ll give ‘em a helluva fight, Daniel. And I’ve got a feelin’ all this shit we’ve been through the last five years hasn’t been for nothin’. There’s a _reason_ we’ve traveled down this road. We’re getting ready for something none of us can see yet. Think of it as combat training.” 

“I’m not a soldier.” Daniel’s face was relaxed, calm, yet filled with sadness. “I can’t carry a gun. Can’t even write my name at the moment.” He looked down at his arms again, lying across his abdomen. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jack assured him. He put his hand over the other man’s chest, feeling the heartbeat, steady and strong, and incredibly relieved to find it there. “What counts is what’s in here.”

Then he poked Daniel’s forehead with his index finger. “And in there.” 

He gazed into those tortured blue eyes and felt Daniel’s despair slicing into his soul.

There was no way a little pep talk was going to change anything, and he knew it. This required stronger medicine than he had at hand, maybe more than he could ever find. Maybe Daniel really _couldn’t_ carry out the role the Ancients had assigned him. 

“And if you can’t do this Mandanu thing, Daniel, that’s okay with me. You’re alive, and that’s all I care about.” He patted Daniel’s cheek and smiled at him, and was rewarded with a smile in return. “Right now, all that matters is that you get well.” 

“You’re getting better at this ‘speaking your heart’ business.” 

Jack winked. “I got a good teacher.” 

Daniel nodded, and another tear slipped across his temple as he nestled into his pillow and closed his eyes. “I’m gonna sleep now,” he whispered hoarsely. 

Jack started pacing again, terrible images filling his mind until he thought he would scream. In his imagination he could feel those spikes going into his own body. He could feel his life draining away, helpless to stop it. But what tore at him the most was that Daniel had been _alone_ with that madman for hours, dying in the presence of hatred. 

_Nobody gets left behind._

His head came up. His fists were clenched, and his body was trembling. He stepped into the nearby bathroom and pressed his face and palms to the wall, gulping in a breath to try and get control of himself. 

_Daniel had died alone._ And it had happened more than once. 

Jack had let it happen. He didn’t know until Carter got that enigmatic message on her computer that had set them into motion to save him, but Daniel was the least able to protect himself of all of them. He was an innocent, an optimist, always expecting the best of people, unaware of danger until the trap crunched closed on him. 

And that was Jack’s responsibility. He had failed a member of his team yet again, and that had to change. Purpose gleamed brightly in his mind, and a plan took shape as he splashed his face with water, and dried it off.

He returned to the room and stood still in the shadows, studying his younger friend. 

Daniel was staring up at the ceiling, contemplating his fate, certain he couldn’t handle it. 

And Jack knew why.

He sat back down in his chair and pretended to read the book again, already thinking about what he would say to Carter and Teal’c.

He wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it, but maybe one of them might find a way to get the point across.

Daniel needed a different kind of medicine, and SG-1 was its only source. 

At least, he hoped they were.

 

* * *

 

 **15 March**

“Wake up, Daniel Jackson.” 

It was dark in the room when the summons came, and Daniel could barely make out Teal’c’s shadowy shape standing beside the bed in the new quarters he shared with Jack, until he was able to care for himself.

Illuminated by the faint light of a single candle on a distant table, the Jaffa’s golden tattoo glittered as the alien watched him.

“What’s going on, Teal’c?” he asked sleepily. “It must be the middle of the night.” 

He tried to adjust his position, and agony flashed up his arms. He sucked in a breath and held it, waiting for the pain to pass, then opened his eyes as the brightness grew.

Not far away, Sam was lighting more candles and Jack moved to the right side of his bed, reached beneath him and helped him to sit more upright, piling pillows up behind him.

He pushed the plunger on the morphine pump as well, in response to Daniel’s groan. 

“Thanks,” he said softly. “What’s going on? What are you all doing here?” 

No one answered. He took note of a basin filled with water on the bedside table, and a washcloth folded neatly beside it.

Teal’c placed a small bowl on the covers over Daniel’s legs. 

“This is the ceremony of _Na Kek_ ,” the Jaffa answered solemnly. 

“ _One blood?”_ Daniel translated. “What’s that about?” 

Teal’c eyed him, his face an impassive mask, and then turned to nod at Sam, who had moved up to his left, and Jack, who stood on the other side of the bed.

Each of them produced a knife. They held them point upward over the bed. And then they lifted their left hands and sliced the blades across their palms in a single swift stroke. 

“God, stop!” Daniel cried in horror. “What the hell are you doing?”

Incredulously, he watched them hold their bleeding palms over the bowl on his lap, their blood draining into it and mixing together in the shallow container. 

But then he understood.

With great care, he lifted his left arm, gasping and grimacing as he held it out. “You better hurry,” he advised. “I can’t hold it up for long.” 

“Your blood has already been shed,” Teal’c assured him. “ _This_ is to even the loss.” 

Daniel clenched his jaws together and continued to hold his trembling hand out, palm up, waiting. 

Teal’c glance at Jack for a command decision. 

He nodded. 

Wiping the blade of his knife on the dry washcloth, Teal’c barely nicked the palm of Daniel’s left hand. The Jaffa held his arm in place for him, letting the blood drip into the bowl. After only a few drops, Teal’c pressed a wad of gauze onto Daniel’s palm and wrapped it, then laid his arm on his lap. He reached into the bowl with two fingers and stirred the gore together.

The knife was laid aside on the washcloth, its purpose fulfilled. 

“I was not present when you needed me most,” Teal’c intoned. With his right hand, he smoothed Daniel’s hair back from his face gently, affectionately. “For many years, you have been my friend, though I once brought you great harm. Now… you are my brother. I will not fail you again.”

Bloody fingers smeared across Daniel’s forehead, then dipped back into the bowl.

“I pledge my life to you, my sister.” He smeared ichor on Sam’s forehead.

“And to you, my brother. By this bond of one blood, we are connected always.”

Red streaked across Jack’s forehead as he leaned across the bed to receive the anointing, and then Teal’c decorated his own forehead. 

He handed the bowl to Sam. “You brought us all together, Daniel,” she said softly, dipped her fingers into the bowl and daubed gently on Daniel’s left cheek. “You hold us all together. You’ve got the biggest heart I’ve ever seen, and I love you for it.”

She turned to the Jaffa. “Your quiet strength amazes me, my brother.”

Her hand hesitated as she turned to Jack and touched his face. “And your heart is always safe with us.”

She smeared her own cheek, and then it was the Colonel’s turn. 

He started with Teal’c. “It has been my privilege to fight alongside you, my brother.”

Painting Sam’s other cheek, he said softly, “You made me appreciate geeks.” 

Everyone smiled and chuckled a little. 

Then he turned to the man in the bed, his useless arms lying in his lap.

“And you have _always_ forgiven me, no matter how much of an ass I was. For that alone, you’re worth keeping around.”

He smiled and smeared Daniel’s right cheek, and then his own. He hesitated, staring down into the bowl. 

“I keep forgetting you’re not a trained soldier, Daniel. I expect you to react like one, but you don’t have a soldier’s instincts.”

He glanced at the others, then dropped his gaze in shame.

“I always talk so big about not leaving anybody behind, but when things get hot, I expect you to be right there in position behind me. Too many times, you haven’t been, _because_ you’re not a soldier. I’ve let you get hurt – Hell, I’ve let you get _killed_ a couple times, all because I didn’t _think_ … Because I kept expecting you to get with the program, but you can’t. You’re not made that way and you never will be, so I have to start looking after you better.” 

He finally faced his friend, his heart wide open. “And I’m _glad_ you’re not. I’m _glad_ you’re a geek. ‘Cause sometimes, it’s the geeks who save our asses. Isn’t it, little brother?” 

For a moment, Daniel couldn’t speak. He glanced at his hands, the cut throbbing but minor compared to his other wounds. He was touched, and tears welled up in his eyes. 

“Gimme a minute,” he said huskily, his voice roughened with emotion.

He met each of their eyes and then slowly, painfully, dipped the fingers of his right hand into the bowl. With great effort, he raised his arm, and Teal’c bent way down so the human could reach him more easily.

Daniel gasped as his fingertips touched the Jaffa’s chin and pain lanced up his arm. 

“Let me do it,” Jack murmured, reaching toward Daniel’s arm but obviously afraid to touch it. 

“ _No_ ,” Daniel insisted tightly. “I’ll carry my weight on this team, thanks. We bleed _together_.”

He let his arm settle for a moment, and took a few deep breaths before reconnecting with his alien brother.

“You are the most steadfastly loyal person I know, Teal’c. I’m honored to be part of your family.” He steeled himself to move again as Sam and Teal’c traded places, and she bent down toward his hand.

“Major Doctor Samantha Carter,” Daniel announced formally. “I always wanted a sister. Now I’ve got one.” 

She grinned and kissed him lightly on the lips. 

“Gee, thanks.”

Then it was Jack’s turn. 

“Well, _I’m_ not gonna kiss ya,” the older man shot back. “I gave you mouth to mouth, though. That’s gotta be good enough.” 

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Daniel struggled to make his left hand go through the motions, but Jack had to support it so Daniel could apply the last smear of blood to Jack’s chin.

“That, too.”

Daniel groaned as he lowered his arm back to his lap. He regarded his best friend, recognizing the warmth in his eyes.

“I’ve always known I could count on you, Jack. And you never left me behind on purpose, only when I told you to.” 

He swallowed as emotion welled up inside him. “Maybe it’s that we’ve been through so much life-and-death stuff together. Maybe it was the discovery of evil far beyond anything we ever imagined that connected you and me, but I’ve felt it since Abydos. I would follow you anywhere, Colonel Jack O’Neill. Even into the depths of Hell… just so I could watch you kick the devil’s ass.” 

He smiled broadly. Jack reflected it, and bent down to embrace him in a back-slapping hug. Daniel lost it as soon as those strong arms wrapped around him, too aware that he couldn’t return the gesture, and his momentary jest turned into a flood of tears.

“I gotcha, bro,” Jack whispered.

After a moment, other warm hands were stroking his hair and Jack’s shoulders.

Sam kissed them both on the hair, and after a moment, so did Teal’c. 

Daniel relaxed against the pillow, and Jack straightened. 

“You okay?” 

With a nod, Daniel glanced around at his teammates, drying blood smeared on their faces like savages. He felt it on his own face, pulling at his skin, and thought how like children they must all look.

He started to laugh, and shortly, the others joined in. 

The door opened, and Janet Frasier walked in, chart in hand, coming to check on her patient on his first night out of the infirmary.

She gasped, mouth and eyes wide open.

“What. The hell. Is going on here?” she demanded, looking from face to bloody face. 

“Just a little blood brother ceremony, Jaffa style,” Jack quipped. “Nothin’ to worry about, but I think we might need some stitches.” He held up his oozing left hand. 

“Have you all lost your _minds?_ Don’t anybody move! I’m going to get a suture tray and some antibiotic ointment.” Shaking her head, she turned to leave. 

“You’re not going to report this, are you, Janet?” asked Sam. “It’s a team thing. Doesn’t have to go on record.” She hesitated. “Does it?” 

Fraiser sighed, shook her head wearily, and left mumbling something about morons and overgrown children. 

Daniel leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.

 Teal’c dipped the cloth into the cooling water and began to wash his teammate’s face, then his own, then passed the cloth to the others in turn.

“I can’t believe you guys did this for me,” he breathed. “Thanks. It means a lot.” 

“We’re family,” Jack assured him with a quiet smile. “Teal’c just had a way to make it formal.” 

“So, on Chulak, we’d be legal family?” Daniel inquired wearily. 

“Yes. You would be responsible for my honor, as I now am for yours.” 

“Does that go for debts, too?” asked Sam. “Anything on your books we need to know about there, Teal’c?” 

The Jaffa smiled enigmatically and shook his head. 

All eyes went to Daniel, and smiles began to fade. 

“You’re _not_ alone, you know,” Jack added softly. “No matter where you are, we’re there with you.” He patted his chest. “In here. Even when you were… you know…” 

Daniel nodded. “Yeah, Jack. _I know_. I felt you with me. _All of you_. I _didn’t_ die alone.”

Tears filled his eyes and were blinked away. “And you saved me. You brought me back. Thank you.” 

“Anytime, little bro. You’d do the same for me.” 

“I’m just sayin’.” 

“Hey, that’s my line.” 

“Where’s the beer?” 

Jack frowned at Daniel. “ _That’s_ my line, too! What’re you tryin’ to do, there, usurp the throne?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Good.” Jack turned to Sam. “Where _is_ the beer?” 

Carter looked a little lost. “Uh… I didn’t know I was supposed to bring… Nobody told me there was going to be a party afterward. I figured, just stitches.” She held up her wounded hand. 

Doctor Frasier returned on cue, looking quite put out. “Daniel’s first. The rest of you sit down and be quiet. You’ve seriously pissed me off.” 

SG-1 obeyed the doctor without question, and proceeded to have their self-inflicted wounds cleaned and dressed. 

Someone started laughing, and all the rest took it up. 

Even Janet, who consequently demanded to hear a full account of the whole event, quotes and all.

 

**_On to the next chapter_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't heard Josh Groban's recording of Alla Luce del Sole, your life is incomplete! It really is Daniel's theme song. Look it up online, and when you've heard it, check out the translation of the Italian lyrics. You'll get chills, I swear!


	7. Trial and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has to give their testimony at Kinsey's trial, which does not go as well as they'd hoped.

**16 March**

Jack opened the door to General Hammond’s office and walked in. “Pardon me for barging in, sir,” he said without a trace of regret, but waited to be directed into the guest chair before taking a seat.

“What’s this about, Colonel?”

“I’m taking SG-1 off of active duty until further notice,” he answered briskly. “Carter and Teal’c can keep busy around the base doing training exercises or whatever, but we’re staying put. Sir.”

Hammond’s eyes narrowed as he considered that statement, which was obviously not a request. “You want to tell me why you’re telling me and not asking, Colonel O’Neill?”

“It’s Daniel, sir. We need to be here for him.”

“He’s receiving proper medical care. We can assign a nurse to him till he’s well enough to take care of himself. I understand he’s teaching Major Carter to use the Goa’uld healing device, to help facilitate his… repairs.”

“He’s not a car, sir, and yes, he’s doing that. She’s picking it up pretty fast. But we still need to be here for moral support. And I’ll be staying with him, helping him out and stuff.” Jack hesitated. “That is, if it’s okay with you, sir.”

“A nurse would be perfectly capable of—“

“That’s not the point.” Jack got up and paced the floor. “See, Daniel doesn’t like for people to do things for him. He doesn’t want to be a burden to anybody, so there are a lot of things he won’t ask a nurse to do. But he’ll ask me, or Carter or Teal’c. We’re family.”

Hammond glanced down at Jack’s bandaged left hand, then back up to his face. Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Yes, I heard that was formalized in some sort of Jaffa ceremony. Funny how all four of you managed to hurt your left hands, somehow, all at the same time.”

Jack kept his mouth shut. He wondered if the whole story had gotten out, and if there would be an official reprimand following for damaging government property.

“I can give you a few days, Colonel. But once Doctor Jackson’s not in need of constant assistance, I’m going to put you and the rest of SG-1 back on the roster.”

“You can’t do that, sir.” Jack stared down at him, his wrist caught behind him at parade rest. “There’s more... Daniel really needs us, and we can’t leave him. _I_ can’t. And I _won’t_. I’ll resign first, and then God help anybody who tries to boot me off the base.”

Hammond stared at him intently, waiting for more.

This was getting way more frank than Jack had been hoping for, but it was apparently necessary. Hammond would understand, he was sure. He sat back down and let out a deep breath.

“May I speak freely, sir?”

“I’m listening.”

Jack looked at his hands, his right thumb prodding the cut on his left palm through the bandage. “Daniel’s had about all he can handle with this… this Mandanu thing, and now what Kinsey did to him... He needs us, sir. He needs to know he’s not alone. He needs to not be _left_ alone, not for a while. And that means one of us needs to be with him constantly, till he’s a little more on his emotional feet.”

“That’s what Doctor Romani’s for,” Hammond reminded him gently. “Though I’d expect something as heinous as what Doctor Jackson’s just been through might warrant a little extra support. I’ll discuss it with Doctor Romani, and get back to you. For now, your _request_ is approved.”

Jack let out a sigh of relief and stood with a smile. “Thank you, sir.” He saluted smartly and pivoted to leave.

“Colonel O’Neill.”

He turned around. “Yes, sir?”

The General rose and came slowly around the desk, his gaze on the floor, pensive.

“I’ve read your team’s reports about the incident. I’ve seen the photographs the police and medical personnel took as evidence, and I have to tell you…” He turned quickly away, and dragged a hand slowly across his mouth before dropping it to his side.

Jack saw that it was shaking.

“I’ve been in a lot of battles, seen a lot of terrible things people are capable of doing to each other, but that was _the_ most horrifying act—“ Hammond leaned on the desk for support. He straightened, and took a deep breath. “ _No one_ deserves that kind of treatment, Jack. Regardless of what Senator Kinsey may have thought of Doctor Jackson personally, this goes _far_ beyond anything—“

“I know, George. It’s hit us all pretty hard. Especially Daniel. I’ve never seen him doubt himself so completely. I’m not sure he’ll _ever_ be okay again, after this. Which is why he needs us so much right now… And I intend to be there.”

Hammond nodded. “I haven’t been to see him yet, because I couldn’t look at him and not see those photographs…“

“Yeah. Me, too… But I _have_ to be there. I have to see _Daniel_ when I look at him, or he’ll know. He’s very perceptive, like that.”

Silence fell between the two men, each lost in his own thoughts.

Jack lifted his head and regarded the other man. “So, how goes it on our new military projects from that paper we brought back from Siraket?”

Hammond glanced up, suddenly all business again. “Slowly, Colonel. The propulsion systems alone are a whole new science. And the weapons—“

“How long?”

The General bowed his head with a sigh. “Two years.” He looked back with worry in his eyes. “That’s too long, isn’t it?”

Jack pressed his lips together and nodded. “Yeah. Still got that colony at the Alpha site?”

“Doing well. New personnel are being vetted and interviewed. Supplies for a few years are being shipped out daily so they’ll be able to stand on their own. And we've got a backup plan for that, too.”

The older man returned to his seat behind the desk and picked up the paper he’d been reading when Jack arrived. “Anything else?”

“Just my thanks, General. And the rest of the team’s, too.”

“Dismissed.”

Jack retreated back to the room he now shared with Daniel, greeting Teal’c with a silent nod as he entered. The Jaffa was feeding their younger teammate, and Daniel looked thoroughly embarrassed. He said nothing when he caught sight of Jack, only returned to the business of eating.

“Teal’c, I’m gonna go home and pack up my stuff, close up my house,” he told the alien. “Should be back in a couple hours.”

“Major Carter should be back shortly from doing the same,” Teal’c intoned, scooping up another spoonful of vegetable soup and holding it up to be eaten. “We will be fine.”

“Back soon, Daniel,” Jack said cheerfully.

“You don’t have to babysit me, guys,” the archaeologist groused between chews. Broth leaked out the corner of his mouth and dribbled down his chin.

Teal’c caught it with a napkin and dabbed it away.

“Damn it,” Daniel’s frustration brought curses to the fore much more easily these days. “I feel like a goddamn baby.”

“That’s why we gotta babysit ya, potty mouth,” Jack shot back. “Just don’t say shit like that in front of Carter. Got it, asshole?”

Daniel and Teal’c both chuckled as Jack left on his latest mission, stopping off to collect his required bodyguards before heading for the surface and home.

 

* * *

 

 

**30 March**

Judge Hiram Czerny sat at the table, frowning at the document in front of him.

“Your Honor, may I politely inquire why we’ve been summoned to this meeting?” asked Tom Cragen, legal counsel for Senator Kinsey. He lifted his gray head from his neatly arranged brief and folded his hands over the stack of papers. Shooting a glance at the prosecutor, he sighed. “I have a great deal to do to prepare for this trial, sir, and—“

“And you will sit and be quiet until we’re all here,” Judge Czerny snapped.

Just then, the door to the conference room opened and a young man in a dark blue uniform stepped in the door. “And it appears we are now. Gentlemen, may I introduce Colonel James Hallett, Judge Advocate General’s office, attached to the Air Force, joining us on behalf of the office of Homeland Security. Colonel Hallett’s been appointed special counsel by the President, who sent me this memo yesterday requesting that we make Colonel Hallett feel welcome in our courtroom. I intend to do just that.”

Czerny raised his brown eyes to Cragen’s, who looked distinctly startled.

“What does Homeland Security have to do with this trial?” Cragen demanded.

Jennie Cartwright, Assistant District Attorney, sat back in her chair and smiled. “I’m sure the President must’ve made some connection, to have taken interest in this apparently _personal_ quarrel between your client and Doctor Jackson,” she said smoothly.

She smiled at the man in uniform. “Do you want to enlighten us, Colonel?”

Hallett set his briefcase on the table and took a chair, but did not open the case. He eyed the defending attorney with an impassive face. “I’ll require a look at all evidence collected in this case, before it’s approved for entering into official documents. I’ll need a list of all witnesses to be called, and to sit in during interviews of all witnesses and involved parties. This case has the potential to edge into matters of national security, and it’s my job to see that isn’t compromised. Therefore, any testimony that threatens to reveal classified information will be squelched.” He paused. Then he smiled,  but there was no humor in it. “By order of the President.”

Cragen’s puffy lips pressed into a hard, white line of anger. His eyes narrowed. “This case concerns a personal issue between Doctor Daniel Jackson and Senator Kinsey. It has nothing to do with classified material.”

The Colonel opened his briefcase and withdrew a report with a red cover. The word “Classified” was stamped in bold black letters on the front. “If I’m not mistaken, sir, this report is what inspired the Senator to allegedly commit this horrific act upon Doctor Jackson. As you can see, the report – and every word contained therein – is _classified_ , and may not be reproduced or quoted in any fashion during the course of the trial.” He looked up from the document to the attorney. “Is that understood?”

“It is,” Cragen assured him. “I haven’t seen the report, nor do I know what’s in it. I have been laying out my case based entirely on events as described to me by my client, who has the greatest respect for the security of this country and, I assure you, has not breached it to save his own hide.”

Hallett smiled, a wolfish grin. “That’s good to know, sir. I’ll be sitting in for the President to make sure it stays that way.” He looked meaningfully at the prosecutor. “On both sides.”

Then he turned his hazel eyes on the judge. “And should there be any slips during the trial, I have the authority to stop the proceedings immediately, until such time as the breach can be addressed. I also have the authority to screen the audience and deny admittance to the courtroom to the press, if necessary, though I don’t anticipate that will be necessary. I think we’ll all be on our guard with this thing, and there will be no leaks before, during or after the trial. Shall we proceed?”

“What do you intend to do at this meeting, sir?” asked Ms. Cartwright. “Aside from your introduction, of course.”

“I thought we’d start by reviewing the list of evidence submitted to us by Judge Czerny by fax yesterday. I’ve made copies for each of you, and highlighted the items that will be removed from the logs.”

He put the red folder back into his briefcase and withdrew three stapled sets of pages, sliding them down the table to each person.

Cragen frowned. “You’re not leaving me much to work with, Colonel.”

“That’s not _my_ problem, sir. Your _client_ should have known better than to try to introduce these items.”

“Doctor Jackson’s _blood evidence_ is pulled?” Cartwright asked. “That puts the Senator’s hands on the knife and the knife in Doctor Jackson. Take that away, and we don’t have any physical evidence.”

“We can verify that the blood evidence is, indeed, Doctor Jackson’s, but we can’t allow the complete report into evidence. It’s classified.”

“Doctor Jackson’s _blood_ is classified?” the judge asked incredulously. He shook his head. “I don’t even want to know. The blood evidence is out; the amended report is in. Next item.”

“In reviewing the witness lists, the man known as Teal’c will not be present to give testimony, nor will he be mentioned or referred to in any way…”

The negotiations continued, changing the balance of the case from overwhelming evidence against the Senator to a near balance, leaving most of it to witness testimony, which was much easier to manipulate, and everyone in the room knew it. The verdict would be decided on whether Senator Kinsey or the members of SG-1 were more convincing. And it would be up to the lawyers to make each of their clients appear to be saints.

 

* * *

 

 

**27 April**

Daniel was wheeled into the courtroom and parked in the aisle, hoping he hadn’t drawn too much attention to himself as he entered, since the trial was already in progress.

Every head turned to look at him, and he scrunched down in his wheelchair beneath their scrutiny. Even after they turned away, he could still feel eyes on him. The Senator’s chauffer was on the stand, testifying that he had picked up Doctor Jackson in town, driven him and Kinsey to another car, and they had gone off together.

He also testified that Doctor Jackson appeared to be intoxicated when Kinsey helped him to the second car.

All that did was place the two men in the same car.

Everything after that was one man’s word against a Senator’s, and Daniel knew it.

He answered the summons to the stand, parked his chair next to the witness box and hobbled painfully into the seat. He was sworn in, and reached nervously to adjust his missing glasses as he took his seat. He felt his palms sweating, knowing the first part would be easy enough, but the cross examination by the defense attorney would be difficult.

Under the prosecutor’s skilled delivery, he thought he came off as an intelligent academic.

That was always a good start.

Ms. Cartwright asked him what the Senator wanted with him, and he confirmed that it was work related, and therefore classified. He glanced at Colonel Hallett, and received a smile and nod, as he had been instructed to reply to such questions. Daniel knew from previous visits to the courtroom that the jury had already been briefed on the fact that omission of some information was a necessity in this case, and that they were to weigh the facts in their grasp to decide the final verdict, rather than infer from the secrecy that there was anything necessary to their decision being withheld.

They were saving the most important witnesses till last, and Daniel was one of those. Jack and Sam would come after him, followed by Doctor Frasier and Doctor Howe, who had performed the surgeries on him in the civilian hospital. The case was being laid out in precise order, following the chain of events, but there was so little of it that Daniel himself could verify. That made him a shaky if important witness, and as the ADA finished her questions and sat down, he straightened and prepared himself for the defense attorney to whittle him down.

Under the prosecutor’s skilled delivery, he thought he came off as an intelligent academic.

That was always a good start.

Mr. Cragen smiled at him patronizingly. “Doctor Jackson, would you tell the jury what happened during the course of your lecture at the Plaza Hotel? You should recall that one, since you were virtually laughed out of your profession for being a crackpot.”

Instantly, he knew what the man was after. “I was giving a lecture on the Old Kingdom and the Fourth Dynasty, and a few minutes into the opening, my entire audience walked out.”

Cragen’s smile widened. “Why do you suppose they did that, Doctor? Were you a boring speaker?”

Daniel’s hands lay in his lap. He flexed them, and winced. “I was being ridiculed for my theories. Pretty much the entire archaeological community turned its collective back on me at that point.”

“You also lost your home and career then, did you not?”

Pursing his lips, remembering, Daniel nodded. “Yes, I did.”

He smiled with a trace of pride. That had been the lowest point of his career, but what had come next…

_Oh, the things he could tell them…_

He remained silent, patiently waiting for the next question.

Cragen also seemed to expect that, and paused. “Hmmm. So you were a laughing stock in your academic community.”

“Pretty much.”

“That’s quite a different picture than what Ms. Cartwright painted of you just now.”

“Do you have any questions for me directly relating to the events of this case?” Daniel shot back, eager to be past the character assassination part of the cross.

“I get to ask the questions here, sir.” Cragen chuckled, looking directly at the jury.

“I’m still waiting for one.”

 _That_ hit the mark with the jury, a few of whom smiled and snickered a little.

The lawyer’s humor faded and he shot a warning glare at the witness. “All right, then. Your career was ruined and you were homeless because your peers thought you were a crackpot—“

“Objection!” Ms. Cartwright interrupted. “Asked and answered.”

“Sustained,” Judge Czerny agreed. “Mr. Cragen, please ask a question relating to this trial, as the good doctor has requested.”

Cragen offered a polite nod toward the judge and turned back to the witness stand. “So your career was tarnished, and suddenly you found yourself doing all this classified work for the government. I know you can’t tell us any specifics about your job, but what sort of things in general that you _can_ say, do you do for your country?”

Daniel pondered how to phrase the answer to that. “Translations, research, cultural insights. I’m sort of a meet-and-greet guy. Public relations, I guess.”

“PR and research,” Cragen mused, and strolled over to his table to glance at a sheet of paper. “And for that you earn approximately seventy thousand dollars a year?”

That was way more than what any of his fellow team members earned, and it embarrassed him to admit to it.

“Yes.” He glanced at Jack’s face and saw not a flicker of surprise or envy. He got a nod and a smile of approval.

Apparently he was worth it, and straightened in his chair. “For the last six years, as a matter of fact.”

Cragen shot him a curious glance. “No raise?”

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t need one. I make more money than I’ll spend now. Most of it just sits in the bank. Though that’s not any of _your_ business.”

“So you’re not a greedy man. That’s good.” Cragen prowled the open area between the witness box and the lawyer’s tables. “When you received the invitation from Senator Kinsey to meet, what did you tell him?”

“That I was suspicious why he wanted to talk to me. Alone.”

“You’d met the Senator before, then?”

“Yes. Work related, and I can’t talk about that.”

“Indeed. I take it you and Senator Kinsey didn’t hit it off?”

Daniel’s eyes rolled up to Cragen’s face. “The Senator is an ass,” he stated flatly.

Titters broke out in the audience, and a few of the jury members smiled.

Cragen did his best to look insulted. “He is a Senator of these United States, Doctor Jackson, and I would ask that you respect the office, if you do not respect the man!”

“I _do_ respect the office,” Daniel shot back irritably. “But Kinsey’s still an ass. And he’s dangerous to anyone whose beliefs differ from his.”

“Doctor Jackson, I’ll advise you to watch your language in my courtroom,” Judge Czerny interjected.

Daniel was instantly contrite. Color heated his face.

“Yes, sir My apologies, Judge Czerny.”

Daniel rephrased his answer to the lawyer. “Senator Kinsey and I didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of issues, all of them incredibly important. He was wrong. I was right, and he hated me for that.”

Cragen’s eyes gleamed. “So you believe the Senator was out to get you?”

Shifting in his seat, Daniel shook his head. “No. Not till he nailed me to that cross.”

Whispers rippled through the courtroom.

He looked up at Cragen and saw that addendum startle him. The lawyer hadn’t been prepared for that, or the stir it had caused in the audience.

“Let’s get back to that morning meeting, shall we?” Cragen suggested. He was starting to sweat a little in the cool room.

“You agreed to meet outside your house, ostensibly to ride in to work in the Senator’s car. Correct so far?”

“Yes.”

“What did you talk about?”

“That’s classified.” Colonel Hallett nodded again, and Daniel went on. “It has to do with my work.”

“So you talked about work. Then what?”

“The Senator poured me a cup of coffee that I later discovered had been drugged. When I woke up, I was tied to a wooden cross out in the country somewhere. He was waiting for me to come to before he… drove in the nails.”

Daniel flinched, trying not to gasp as the memory flashed through his mind and his body recalled the torture. He put his head down and reached for the half wall in front of him for support, but his fingers gripped too hard and pain flashed up his arm. He grimaced.

Cragen seemed instantly sympathetic. “Do you need a moment, Doctor Jackson?”

“I’m fine,” he replied automatically. He always said that, whether he was or not.

Drawing his hand back into his lap, he straightened and tried to breathe, tried to push past those memories and keep his wits about him.

“What did the Senator tell you, Doctor?”

“He… he had in his mind that _I_ believed I was some sort of Messiah, Jesus reincarnate. I tried to tell him I wasn’t, that I didn’t think that at all.” Daniel eyed the bandages on his wrists in his lap. His hands were shaking, but he couldn’t hold them still, couldn’t close them into fists, because it hurt too much.

He rolled eyes filled with anguish up to the defending attorney and said calmly, “I’m just a guy, Mr. Cragen. Just an ordinary guy. He wouldn’t listen.” He drew a shaky breath. “And he nailed me to that cross to convince me I wasn’t the Son of God. _I_ already _knew_ that.”

For a moment, he couldn’t see or hear anything but the echo of his own screams. He heard the metallic sound of metal on metal as the hammer struck the spike, and flinched in his chair. He felt the knife slide slowly up into his abdomen, and shifted his body away from it, his right hand automatically reaching for the wound. He couldn’t breathe and turned away from the faces, feeling for the wall of the judge’s bench beside him. He shuddered there for a moment, slowly forcing himself away from that terrible place in his memory, back to the present.

_Just breathe. Breathe. Be still. Be here now, in the courtroom._

It took a few moments to leave that horrible place. He was still breathing hard when the sounds of the noisy courtroom filtered back into his consciousness. But he couldn’t look away from the wall, from the safe zone inside that witness box.

_Just breathe. Be still._

He couldn’t remember if someone had been speaking to him. With a shaky voice, he spoke to Cragen and lifted his head again, unable to wipe the tears off his face. “I’m sorry, sir. Did you say something? I… I was just… I couldn’t help remembering…”

The murmur of voices were like the sounds of water rushing into his ears. Like the sound of drowning.

He knew Cragen had answered, but couldn’t discern what he’d said.

Desperate, his mind fracturing, he searched the courtroom for an anchor and found Jack O’Neill standing with this hand on the railing between the audience box and the attorneys’ benches, a glorious figure in his Class A uniform, his eyes full of concern.

Jack had been coming for him, ready to disregard the sanctity of the court, because his friend needed him.

It was enough.

“I’m okay,” he promised with as much of a smile as he could manage, eyes on Jack, nodding to him.

“Doctor Jackson, do you need a recess?” the judge asked with a note of concern.

He shook his head, gathering his strength as he watched Jack return to his seat. Sam was standing next to hers as well, awaiting a call to action.

_How he loved them in that moment!_

“I’m okay,” he repeated for the judge, but kept his eyes on his friends.

He took a few more deep breaths to calm him, then turned his attention to Kinsey, sitting quietly at the defendant’s table.

The asshole was smiling, filled with his own self-righteous, arrogant belief that he’d done something _good_.

Anger was so much easier to bear that anguish.

When he spoke to Cragen again, his voice was strong and clear.

“Kinsey nailed me to a cross to teach me a lesson in humility, sir. I tried to tell him I already knew how insignificant I am, but he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t deserve this, but Kinsey’s ego is so enormous that nobody can be right but him. I got to pay the price for his religious zeal. That doesn’t seem fair to me at all.”

The wind seemed to be taken out of Cragen’s sails by Daniel’s honest, tortured reaction to the questioning, and the rest of his cross examination was scattered and lifeless. He sat down a few moments later, with Kinsey glaring at him for his apparent failure.

Daniel watched Kinsey’s anger rising, but how that man felt no longer mattered to Doctor Jackson. He’d said his piece, and whether or not the Senator was found guilty, Daniel felt vindicated.

Ms. Cartwright stood up and came forward again. “Doctor Jackson, what time do you estimate this event took place?”

Daniel shrugged, thinking back to the position of the sun. “Morning. That’s the best I can do. We met early, before 7 a.m. I don’t know how long we were driving, because I was unconscious for most of it, but the sun was still low in the east, so it was early.”

“And how long was he watching you hang on that cross, bleeding to death?”

Tears gathered in his eyes. A lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to talk. “ _Suffocating_ , actually. The blood loss was significant, but I couldn’t breathe well, hanging in that position. Kinsey took great pleasure in explaining that’s what would kill me. And to answer your question, I think it was late in the afternoon when I finally passed out. Or died. They tell me I was dead for a little while there, but I don’t remember it because I probably was. _Dead_.”

“And thankfully, due to the miracles of modern medicine and the quick actions of your teammates, you were resurrected.” She looked pointedly at Kinsey. “Doctor Jackson, would you mind taking off your jacket and rolling up your sleeves?”

That request startled him. His shoulders hunched up. He hugged himself and blushed. “I’d really rather not.”

She stood in front of the jury box and looked down at him, her face filled with sympathy. “Why is that, doctor? Don’t you want the jury to see what Mr. Kinsey did to you?”

Daniel’s shoulders rose up a little. He hunched down in his chair. “Because the scars are horrible. Because…”

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Ms. Cartwright, I can’t make a fist anymore. I have trouble holding a coffee cup, and I _love_ coffee. I can barely type, and have to dictate my reports now, because it still hurts too much to move my fingers. I can walk, but not very far or very fast. I don’t need the reminders I live with every day. And I _certainly_ don’t want to show them off. They’re a chapter I want closed. I’d prefer never to remember what happened again.”

He sighed, and his gaze fell on a tiny crucifix she wore on a gold chain around her neck, just barely visible at her neckline. He shuddered and stared at the floor instead.

“But unfortunately, that’s not an option. I still have nightmares about it. You’ve all, unfortunately, seen that I still have trouble talking about what I went through. And I’ll never be able to look at a crucifix or cross again, without remembering what he did to me.”

Self-consciously, she covered the necklace with her fingertips. After a moment, she removed the necklace and slipped it into the pocket of her suit jacket before she spoke again.

“Are you Catholic, Doctor Jackson?”

He swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. “I used to be, a long time ago. My wife is, and our daughter will be raised in the Church. But I won’t be going with them to services. I can’t.”

He looked up at her, pleading for her to let him go, to stop. This was all way too personal, stuff he hadn’t shared with anyone, even his closest friends. Putting it out in public like that made him feel naked.

“I can imagine it would be very difficult for you,” she agreed. “Please, Doctor Jackson. Take off your jacket and show the jury your scars.”

By the time he’d shifted his eyes to look for Jack, the man was already on his way to the witness box to help him.

Jack eased him out of his suit jacket, unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolled the sleeves up.

When O’Neill stood up, the ADA said quietly, “All of them, please.”

Daniel nodded when Jack’s eyes asked him for confirmation.

This was so embarrassing, but he also understood it was necessary for the jury to see the damage done, how it the victim had been affected.

Jack pulled the hem of Daniel’s shirt out of his trousers on the left side, then bent to removed his dress shoes and socks, putting the clothing nearby on the rail of the witness box.

Then Jack pushed Daniel’s wheelchair over to the witness box.

With great effort, Daniel stood and hobbled on his wounded feet toward the jury box, wrists out. The DA turned his arms over to show that the scars were on both sides, how the spikes had gone all the way through, and made a mess of his anatomy both going in and coming out. Ms. Cartwright held up his shirttail so the jury could see the raw, red scar where the surgeons had cut him open to repair the damage done by Kinsey’s knife.

Revulsion was evident on all their faces. People gasped in horror and looked like they were about to be sick. One elderly woman vomited over the rail and dissolved into tears.

His heart went out to them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to them all. “You shouldn’t have to look at that.”

“Thank you, Doctor Jackson,” she said softly.

Jack helped him back into the chair and his clothes. No one moved or spoke, except to wipe away tears.

The judge dismissed Daniel.

Jack drove him back into the audience and patted his thigh when they were both seated.

Sam gave him a supportive smile, and then she was called to the stand.

“Major Carter,” Cragen began, “would you please tell the court what you did when you arrived on the scene in question?”

Sam’s eyes strayed to Kinsey, sitting smugly at the table. “I beat the crap out of the Senator, sir.”

Laughter murmured softly all around them, a welcome relief from the horror moments earlier.

Cragen seemed satisfied with that assessment. “You didn’t wait to find out what had happened, what the Senator was doing there?”

“When we arrived on the scene,” Carter responded, “I saw my friend hanging on a cross, dying. Maybe dead already. Kinsey was standing at his feet, looking up at him with blood all over his hands, and he was _smiling_. I just put two and two together and figured that, since there was nobody else around and he wasn’t trying to help, Kinsey was responsible. And I was right.”

“You _believed_ you were right.” Cragen eyed her. “But at the time you didn’t know how Doctor Jackson got there?”

“No. And I didn’t care. I wanted Kinsey to pay for what he’d done.” Tears gathered in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “If I’d had my sidearm, I’d probably have shot him, but all I had were my fists, so I used his face for a punching bag till the Colonel called me away to help get Daniel down.”

“That would be Colonel John O’Neill, correct?” Cragen eyed Jack for a moment before turning back to her.

“Yes, sir.”

“Major Carter, what did the Senator say to you when you attacked him?”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Kinsey. “He said he had _saved_ us.”

“From what, Major?”

She straightened. “I don’t know, sir. And I don’t care to know.”

Cragen nodded, expecting that. “Tell me, Major, had you ever met the Senator previously?”

“Yes, sir. He came to the base to determine whether or not he’d continue to recommend funding for our program.”

“Your program,” Cragen repeated. He strolled over to the table. “You’re with the Air Force, are you not, Major?”

“That’s been stated for the record.”

“And you carry several degrees in astrophysics, have flown missions during the Gulf War, earned several medals of valor in service to your country. Very impressive.” He turned back to her. “But I take it your relationship with the Senator wasn’t a congenial one?”

“No, sir. He actually shut our program down at one point by denying funding. He had his mind made up before he ever started investigating whether or not fighting global terrorism was a worthwhile endeavor.” Sam had chosen her words carefully, but saw Colonel Hallett frown and close his eyes briefly at the hint.

“Global terrorism? That’s what your unit does?” Cragen’s attention shifted between her and Daniel. “An _astrophysicist_ and an _archaeologist_ , both working for the government to fight _terrorists_. Hmmmm.”

She regretted the admission slightly, fearing now that it would come back to haunt them at some point, but the damage was done. She had wanted the jury to know how vital what they were doing was, and the phrasing was correct, after a fashion.

“Yes, sir. Daniel’s also a talented linguist who speaks twenty-three different languages, and learns more as we need them. He’s a brilliant, kind man who didn’t do _anything_ to deserve being crucified. He tries to help people.”

“Doctor Jackson was committed to a mental institution some years back, wasn’t he?” Cragen’s eyes gleamed with secrets.

“Yes, mistakenly. The doctor who ordered the incarceration was proven incorrect later. Daniel was sick, but his mind was fine, as was proven later when he was declared fit for duty. The military is very strict about ensuring that the people they put out in the field are in control of all their faculties.”

“I believe the diagnosis was schizophrenia, wasn’t it? He’d lost touch with reality.”

“And the diagnosis was incorrect, as I said.”

“Doctor Jackson isn’t in the military, is he?”

“No, sir. He’s a civilian advisor, and crucial to our unit.” She smiled at Daniel, sitting hunched in his chair beside Jack. “He’s also very much like a brother to me.”

“You love him, then. And you’d do _anything_ to help him, right?”

“Pretty much. Yes, sir.”

“And you hate the Senator, don’t you, Major? After all, he shut down your program for a few days.”

She narrowed her eyes at the lawyer. “No, sir. I don’t – didn’t – feel one way or the other about the Senator, until he tried to kill Daniel. Our program was reinstated when its value was made apparent to those in power, despite the Senator’s personal objections. I thought he was blind and stupid, but I didn’t _hate_ him. Not until he crucified my friend.”

“But you hate him now?”

Sam took a deep breath and let it go in a sigh. “You know, I can see where you’re trying to go with this, and no, I wouldn’t lie on the stand to put Kinsey away because I had a beef about how he handled a government program.”

She leaned forward, intent on making her point. “From the first moment I met Senator Kinsey, I knew he was closed-minded and would be hard to work with, but we’ve dealt that type before. I’ve worked on initiatives that have been shut down, and don’t take it personally. There are _other_ jobs.”

She shrugged and smiled a little. “But when you see your friend hanging on a cross, dying, and the man who had done it—“

“Allegedly,” the lawyer interjected.

“—smiling, enjoying watching him die, yes, in that moment I hated Senator Kinsey. I wanted to kill him, but it was more important to try to _save_ Daniel’s life than to take Kinsey’s. My emotions have cooled since then. I don’t hate him anymore, but I do pity him, because he still believes he’s right, which means Daniel isn’t safe, even in his own home. He’s had to give up his life and move onto the base, partly because of the threat the Senator still represents.”

“But Senator Kinsey isn’t the only one who wants Doctor Jackson dead. Isn’t that right, Major?”

She glanced at Colonel Hallett, whose eyes held a warning to watch how she answered. “As I said earlier, we fight terrorists and Daniel is integral to that endeavor. So yeah, there are others who would like to see him dead. People who want to see a _lot_ of Americans dead.”

Cragen pulled a photograph out of his jacket and handed it over to Sam. “Major, do you know this woman?”

The photograph was one of Daniel and Shannon’s wedding photos, and Carter was surprised to see it come at her in the courtroom, out of the lawyer’s hands. She laid it in her lap face down, glanced pointedly at Hallett, and then said to Cragen, "This is from Daniel's _wedding_. How did you get it?"

Jack got up and went to whisper into Hallett’s ear.

“As I told Doctor Jackson, _I_ ask the questions here. Aren’t you going to answer me, Major?”

“That’s classified information,” Hallett said, standing up at the prosecution table. “The woman’s identity may not be revealed. This photograph was not submitted into the evidentiary process, and would have been denied had it been.” He sat down.

Judge Czerny held out his hand for the photograph.

“I’ll keep it, sir,” Sam told him. “It belongs to Daniel, and I don’t know how Mr. Cragen got hold of it, but I can assure you, it _wasn’t_ by legal means.”

Cragen held out his hands in supplication. “I was merely asking if you knew Doctor Jackson’s wife. He did mention her earlier in testimony.”

Sam looked at Hallett for permission, and got it. “Yes, I know her.”

“Have you seen her lately?”

“No, sir. She’s away.” She paused. “Visiting friends. I went with Daniel to see her off.”

“Visiting friends,” he repeated. “Wasn’t this visit arranged just _after_ someone tried to kill her, simply _because_ she’s Doctor Jackson’s wife?”

Sam said nothing, and looked to Hallett for help.

“This line of questioning is dangerously close to classified information, Your Honor,” Hallett clarified. “I suggest Mr. Cragen go somewhere else.”

Carter straightened in her seat. “The work we do is very dangerous and yes, there are people out there who have grudges against us. But Senator Kinsey was the only one there with Daniel. Kinsey nailed him to that cross and sat around for hours watching him die. That’s all I need to know.”

She nodded at the jury. “And that’s all they need to know.”

She waited calmly for the next question, quiet triumph in her eyes.

“That’s all I have for this witness, Your Honor,” Cragen declared, and marched purposefully back to the table.

Jack was next, dressed in his best uniform, his chest covered in ribbons.

He sat erect in the witness chair, eyes intent on Kinsey even when Cragen came up to cross examine him.

Cartwright had laid everything out as it happened, clean and simple, with the omission of  Teal’c’s presence in the rescue. Jack didn’t hope that would last too much longer. He saw the angle Cragen was fishing for, and had to keep the lawyer from blaming anyone else for what had happened.

“What do you think of the Senator personally, Colonel O’Neill?” Cragen asked pointedly.

“I think he’s an overzealous…” Jack closed his mouth for a moment. “I’m prohibited by my uniform from using the appropriate words to describe that man in court, sir.

Cragen smiled. “Let’s go back to the event in question, Colonel, if you please.”

“I’d rather not, but that is what we’re here for. Knock yourself out.”

The lawyer frowned at his flippant attitude. “Your work is admittedly dangerous, according to Major Carter. Your team is under a great deal of stress under an almost daily basis. Is that a fairly correct assessment, sir?”

“Life and death stuff, yes, sir.”

“Your team is very close. Like family.”

“You goin’ somewhere with this, Cragen? ‘Cause I think the jury got that earlier when Major Carter was on the stand.”

“Why didn’t you order one of your team to hold Kinsey, if you believed he had done this terrible thing to Doctor Jackson?”

“That’s easy. I knew he wouldn’t run away.”

Cragen smiled. “And why is that, Colonel?”

Jack sniffed. His lips twitched. “Because that’s not the kinda guy he is. No matter what Kinsey’s done in his private life, you can always find him on Capitol Hill. He can’t stay away from the power because he’s eaten up with it.”

“Ah, the _power_. So you know the Senator pretty well?”

“We’ve talked several times. I like to think I read people pretty well, and this guy … has always had his own agenda, regardless of why the people put him in office. He’s not someone to be trusted.”

Cragen was obviously angry. “Let’s get back to the facts, then, shall we? You don’t like the Senator. That’s apparent. Was it because he shut down your program?”

“No. It was because he removed a vital piece from the network of protection for this country. I take personal umbrage at that. I don’t like seeing America defenseless. He’s supposed to be _helping_ us do our job, not getting in the way of it.”

He glared at Kinsey, his outrage and anger kept on simmer under a tight lid.

The Senator stared right back without flinching.

“Nevertheless, you got your jobs back. Did you not also pay a visit to the Senator at his home and threaten him during a party?”

“For getting in the way of homeland security _again,_ yes. I kept hoping he’d learn, but he’s too thick-headed and blinded by his religious views to—“

“That’s enough, Colonel,” Cragen assured him stiffly. “You have a personal vendetta against the Senator, don’t you?”

“Nope. He can stay on Capitol Hill and make all the laws the people will let him get away with, but I draw the line at him killing my friends.”

“Senator Kinsey hasn’t killed anyone,” Cragen assured the jury with a wide smile, looking pointedly at Daniel. “Allegedly or in fact.”

Jack frowned at the lawyer’s back. “I’m no doctor, but when someone’s not breathin’ and doesn’t have a heartbeat, I understand that’s pretty much _dead_ , and that’s the condition Daniel was in by the time we got that cross on the ground where we could reach him. We started CPR and they revived him back in the hospital, but from where I stood, Daniel Jackson was _dead_ when we found him. So yeah, Senator Kinsey killed my friend. My brother in arms, who has been in service to this great country for several years now.”

Cragen’s pale face flushed. “But you made no attempt to take vengeance on the Senator?”

“I’m a man of honor,” Jack explained calmly. “The most important thing was to take care of Daniel, to get him down from that cross and get him to a doctor ASAP. I knew I could find Kinsey later, once we knew whether Daniel was going to make it or not.”

“And if Doctor Jackson had died, what would you have done then?”

“I already did it,” Jack replied, keeping his personal revenge fantasies at bay. “I turned Kinsey over to the cops. If he were anybody _but_ a Senator, he’d be in jail. And even if he’s convicted, he’ll be handled with kid gloves and probably serve only a fraction of the sentence I think he ought to get. He’ll suffer little more than a slap on the wrist, while Daniel has to live with nightmares the rest of his life, and can’t bear to walk into a church without falling apart. It’s not fair, but it’s the way our justice system works. I can live with that.”

Cragen looked immensely surprised and not a little pleased. “Why is that, Colonel?”

“Because Kinsey will get what’s coming to him when he stands before God and is judged for his crimes. I’m good with that. Personally, I’d like to see him get a little taste of what he gave Daniel, but _I_ couldn’t hammer those spikes into anybody, even my worst enemy. Not even someone like Kinsey.”

Cragen’s expression sagged in defeat. Then he grew thoughtful and cocked his head. “Did you not threaten the Senator’s life, if Doctor Jackson died?”

“It could probably have been taken that way,” Jack admitted, nodding. “I said nobody would be able to hide him from the people who’d be interested to know where he was. I didn’t say what they’d do to him, though. Personally, I intend to visit him in prison as often as I can, just to see him behind bars. That is, _if_ he does any time at all.”

“You don’t think our justice system works, Colonel O’Neill?”

“Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes there's undue influence exerted to get people off light. Deals are made. I don't know what's gonna happen here, but I trust the system.” He reached up to touch the fruit salad decorating the left breast of his jacket. "This is the best system in the best country on the planet. Justice will be carried out."

“And if the Senator is acquitted, what will you do?”

“My job. Protect this country to my last breath. But I won’t commit murder to carry out that mission, Mr. Cragen. Unlike the Senator, who seems to think that’s the way to get the job done.” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “That’s why we have laws, though, and people like him to make ‘em. So people like him can answer to ‘em.”

Cragen stared at him for a moment. “No further questions,” he said quietly and returned to the table.

Kinsey’s confidence seemed to be flagging a little, which suited Jack just fine.

“And come Judgment Day, I’ll be cheering when the Big Guy sends you to Hell, Senator.”

He rose from the witness chair and returned to the audience, settling into his seat with a pat on Daniel’s knee.

“Thank you,” the younger man whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack murmured. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

The trial continued for another two weeks, and Daniel made sure he was there every day for the jury to see him.

When deliberation began, SG-1 returned to the base to await the verdict, which was swift and disappointing.

“Two years for attempted manslaughter at a minimum security prison near Denver,” Jack griped. “Well, at least it’s something.”

Daniel kept his comments to himself, handing over the healing device to Sam finish repairing him.

She offered an apologetic smile when the session was over.

“Sorry. I don’t know how to make the scars go away. The tissues are already closed and healed on their own. I can’t… I can’t change that. Maybe if we had a sarcophagus…”

“It’s okay,” he promised her with a weak smile, and rolled down his sleeves over the ugly places on his arms.

He stayed in his room for the rest of the day, looking up additional references on the Mandanu and wishing someone else had been chosen, _anyone_ but himself.

Late in the day he began to feel claustrophobic and headed outside for a breath of fresh air.

“Thought I’d find you here,” mused Jack as he wandered up the mountainside. “You okay?”

“Still the Divine Judge, as far as I know,” he replied with a shrug. “Any word on the Apocalypse?”

Jack nodded. “The Goa’uld are building their armies, and more _ha’taks_ to carry ‘em in. All our allies are talking about it. That’s not good.”

“Wonder how long it’ll be before they start showing off their firepower?”

Jack kicked a pebble. “Bet we’re among the first to know.”

“Any word on how things are coming with those fighters you designed?”

Jack put a finger to his lips briefly. “Military says it’ll take a year just to work out all the calculations, another two to put ‘em into production. I don’t think we have that long. I can _feel_ the clock ticking.”

Daniel looked up at him. “Then maybe it’s a good thing I copied the plans for Jacob. I doubt the Tok’ra take as long to build them.”

“Sweet! Maybe they’ll even share a few with us.” Jack was grinning broadly. “They’re gonna be cool, Daniel. Hope I get to fly one.”

“I wish there were no need to.”

Jack sat down beside the younger man. “You know, little bro, whatever this Mandanu thing is, I think you’ll do okay at it. They picked you for a reason, and I’ll bet it’s a really good one.”

“My whole life’s a mess, Jack. Everything I’ve ever tried to do has turned to crap. Everyone I’ve tried to help ends up dead. Not a very encouraging record, if you ask me.”

“Well, nobody asked you, did they? They just gave you the job because they saw reason enough for you to handle it.” Jack nudged him, shoulder to shoulder.  “And besides, you’ve got a good heart. That counts for a lot, because you always want to do the right thing.”

Daniel frowned at the man and dodged back to get a better look. “Where is Jack O’Neill and what have you done with him?”

“You’re still a geek.”

“That’s better.”

Daniel studied the sky and fell silent, enjoying the silent companionship of the man beside him, contemplating what the future held for them both, and the world they loved.

 

* * *

 

 

**4 May**

The ‘gate stood open, and at the foot of the ramp, SG-1 stood waiting.

A small gray Being broke the watery surface and came toward them, its big black eyes blinking impassively back at the humans.

“The Asgard bring greetings,” said the Being, bowing slightly from the waist. “We are pleased to acknowledge the Mandanu.”

Daniel’s gaze went automatically to the floor. His head bowed, and kept quiet.

“Welcome to Earth,” Jack returned warmly. “I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill. You obviously know Daniel, and this is Major Carter and Teal’c.”

“I am Odin, chieftan of the Asgard.”

“Colonel Jack O’Neill. We may have met before, when I visited your planet a couple years back. At least, I _think_ you look familiar.”

He finished the other introductions in turn. “Shall we head for the conference room? I can’t wait to hear what my buddy Thor’s been up to lately. How’s he doin’, by the way?”

“Thor is well, and sends fond regards.” The Asgard chieftan walked with them out of the embarkation room and carefully climbed the stairs to the conference room.

Once the Being was seated – in a chair specially raised to accommodate its small stature – the meeting began.

“On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of our world, we welcome you to Stargate Command, Odin,” General Hammond intoned. “What can we do for you?”

The Being blinked, not a flicker of expression on its impassive face.

“Thank you, General Hammond, but it is not what you can do for _us_ that brings us here.” It looked right at Daniel. “I have come to tell you that our treaty with the Goa’uld has been broken, and full scale war with them is now under way on several fronts.”

Jack’s heart sank. “We were kinda expecting that, actually. It’s a prophecy thing. Been hearin’ it all over.”

“And this is one prophecy you are wise to heed,” Odin agreed. Its big, dark eyes turned to the General. “The Goa’uld are now using many weapons of the Ancients, which have great power and are effective against ours. We appear to be evenly matched in each conflict, and are suffering losses as great as those we inflict. Those worlds that were once protected are now targets. Too often we make contact and find few survivors.”

“Can you figure out what they’re planning, where they might hit next?” Jack asked solemnly.

“We have intelligence that suggests your secondary colony may be attacked soon. You would be wise to relocate your people, if there is time.”

“To where?” General Hammond asked. “It appears nowhere is safe from the Goa’uld, now.”

Odin nodded. “You are correct. And the weapons you have at your disposal would be useless against an assault on the colony from space.”

It bowed its head, apparently in thought. “We will post one of our ships in orbit around the planet, in the hope that its presence may deter an attack. But that is all we can spare.”

“I don’t suppose you’d want to share any of your people’s cool weapons or space ships with us, so we can protect ourselves here on Earth?” Jack asked hopefully.

It inclined its head in a gesture of patient indulgence. “You would not understand how to operate them properly, under combat conditions. Such a loan would be of little help to you.”

With a sigh, it added, “And I fear that our losses to Replicator incursions have left us with no resources to spare.”

“So we’re _all_ screwed.” Jack pondered unhappily the fate that lay before him. “We got some technology from the Ancients, but can’t put the stuff into production yet. Could you guys help us with that?”

“You would still need time to learn to operate your new defenses, and our resources…” Odin blinked. “I fear that may be impossible, Colonel O’Neill.”

“It’s still a better option than sitting on our hands and waiting to get barbequed by the Gould! And I’ll bet we could provide the raw materials. Somehow.”

“We will consider it.” Odin gave him a nod.

“On another subject, we wanted you to be aware that the Replicators seem to have disappeared. There have been no new sightings or attacks in several of your months. We have narrowed down the quadrant of space where they were last seen and wish you to be aware, in case you had exploration planned in those areas.”

The Being activated the device implanted in its left hand, and a holographic image appeared above its palm, creating a three-dimensional map. All eyes studied the image in silence.

“I know where that is,” Jack breathed. He got up and headed downstairs to the Plexiglas map of the universe connected to the ‘gate computer system. Picking up a white wax pencil used to mark on the clear panel, he drew a circle around the area, and stared at the planets marked with SGC labels.

One in particular caught his eye, and brought up memories he’d have preferred stayed buried.

The others joined him a few moments later.

“You recognized something, Colonel?” asked the General.

P3X-562 was right in the middle of that section. That was where Jack had been zapped and duplicated by the Unity crystals. His mind scrambled to extrapolate any potential danger for those gentle beings, but such computations were beyond him. He turned to Carter.

“Have there been any instances of Replicators eating crystals, Major?”

She paused. “The Goa’uld use certain crystals as power sources and storage devices,” she returned thoughtfully. “We don’t have any evidence to suggest that the Replicators actually _eat_ crystals, but they might be converted into a valuable power supply for them. Why?”

Jack put his finger on the map and faced the table. “Because that’s where the Unity crystals are. And as I recall, they packed quite a punch.”

Carter’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, my God. If the Replicators went there, they could have enslaved the Unity, or destroyed them all together, looking for a new source of power that would enable them to evolve beyond their current state.”

Jack’s eyes snapped to Hammond’s. “Sir, request permission to return to P3X-562 to check on the Unity.”

“We’ll send a MALP through to assess any potential danger,” the General agreed. “Then I’ll let you know whether or not your mission’s approved, Colonel.”

The Asgard chieftan’s head cocked inquisitively. “You seek to protect others against the Replicators, even as you face the Goa’uld?”

“If we can.” He half-listened to Hammond give orders for the MALP transport.

“We will be interested to see what you find, Colonel,” Odin stated. “We have been working on the android called Reese that SGC sent to us months ago, and have hope that our repairs may be enough to restore its memory functions and get it online again. Perhaps then we will be able to use it to help us shut the Replicators down.”

Jack eyed Daniel, noting that the younger man’s eyes were aimed at the table.

He was still and silent, and Jack knew what response hearing the android’s name would pull from his friend’s heart.

“Yeah. That’d be good. And when you get her up and running again, I’m sure Daniel would like to visit… her.”

Blue eyes raised to his with silent thanks, and a glimmer of grief.

He nodded in acknowledgment, and gave a nod of reassurance.

Messages sent and received, apologies made and accepted without a single word between them.

Jack was amazed at that.

The group returned to the conference room for more discussion until the MALP had been transported and relayed back its brief transmission, and the assembly headed for the control room for a look.

The bright yellow sand dunes still framed the scenes, but in black and white on the MALP screen.

Where there had been a scattering of broken crystals in the pit just in front of the Stargate, though, was empty.

Nothing but dunes stretched out as far as the MALP’s eye could see.

“Somebody took ‘em,” Jack observed. “General Hammond, I request permission for SG-one to investigate.”

The older man considered. He eyed the members of the team, standing at attention now, except for one member. The General’s gaze stayed on the silent one at the table.

“Doctor Jackson, are you ready to participate in this mission?”

Jack saw the expression on Daniel’s face, one of quiet resignation and acceptance.

He nodded. “Yes, sir. Wherever they go, I go.”

“All right then. Colonel, you have a go.”

It took less than an hour for them to prepare.

Jack looked over his team, still unsure Daniel was up to the task. “Daniel, you’re with me at all times, understand? Like we’re dancing a waltz together. I move, you move with me. Okay?”

Daniel just nodded, adjusting the chinstrap on his helmet.

Only when the younger man met Jack’s eyes and he could see that Daniel was ready, did he give the order.

“Let’s move out,” he announced, and stepped through the portal and into the rush of wormhole travel.

Stumbling out on the other side, he marched up the nearest dune, the grainy yellow sand sucking at his boots. Once at the crest, he stopped in his tracks.

“What is it, sir?” asked Carter, struggling up beside him. She turned her eyes to the horizon where he was staring, and froze.

“What do you see?” asked Teal’c, sliding back a little with each step, panting with exertion as he brought up the rear.

“Oh, my God,” Daniel breathed, joining the group.

The dunes further back from the Stargate had been leveled. A city had sprung up out of nowhere, made of shining metal that gleamed in the bright sunshine. It floated a few feet off the surface of the flattened sand.

Things were moving in the distance with apparent purpose, and the group hurried forward to get a better look.

“Where are the Unity?” Daniel whispered to no one in particular. “ _All_ the crystals were gone, even the broken pieces.”

“And who built this city?” Sam wondered.

The answer to that became clear as they approached.

A small orb floated out to meet them, and they recognized the metal pieces that made up its surface, all of the same identical shape.

It was a Replicator construct, but no longer in the familiar bug shape that Reese had created.

Jack raised his gun, preparing to shoot the thing.

“Please,” called a metallic voice from nearby. “Do not harm us, Colonel O’Neill.”

The voice was multi-tonal, both male and female, and familiar.

SG-1 turned as a unit toward the sound.

Nobody moved.

A Being came toward them walking on two legs, two arms swinging at its sides. The body was metal but appeared to be almost liquid, flexing with the suppleness of human skin. And its face was blue and transparent, like the Unity.

It smiled at them, and lifted a hand to wave in an utterly human gesture.

“Who are you?” Jack demanded.

“We are the Unity,” it answered. “And also those you once called Replicators. We are now an even Greater Unity.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” the Colonel quipped, suspicious of this new creature.

He knew that the Unity had been gentle, harmless, compassionate; however, the Replicators were little more than a mindless appetite bent on destruction.

“It is,” the Being assured him, nodding its head. “The original Unity now have mobility that we had never before experienced, and the Replicators now have the benefit of our conscience and guidance as we evolve together.”

It walked gracefully toward him, its feet not quite touching the sand, and stopped a short distance away.

“You need have no fear of the Replicators any longer, Colonel O’Neill. We were preparing to contact you soon, to offer friendship and an alliance against the Goa’uld. We remembered your kindness, when you returned us to our world and saved our lives.”

It bowed, and smiled up at him again.

Something about that blue face nagged at him.

It was familiar, somehow, but he was sure he’d never seen it before.

“You’re not… the same one that was… Charlie, are you?”

The smile faded somewhat as its expression became more solemn, and it nodded. “Yes. We are the one.” It lowered its eyes. “We wished to offer tribute to your loss. This form is an extrapolation of the adult your son would have been, had he lived.”

It met his steady, startled gaze again. “We will change form, if you wish.”

The blue crystal became opaque, and the gleam of glassy reflection muted. Blue gradually changed to a pinkish, and then to flesh-tone. The blue eyes became brown as chocolate, and blondish-brown hair sprouted over its forehead.

Jack’s heart leaped up into his throat. His eyes misted as he gazed into that alien face, looking every bit as human now as his own. The eyes blinked at him with normal rhythm, and the chest rose and fell with the simulation of breath.

It looked like Charlie.

_Like what Charlie would have been as a man._

The Unity had given him a gift beyond compare when it allowed him a glimpse of his dead son in the flesh years earlier.

It allowed him to say good-bye.

And now, it had given him a look into a future that might have been, and asked him to be its friend.

“What do I call you?” he asked when he could make his voice work.

“We are the Unity,” it repeated with a slight bow. “To speak to one is to speak to all.”

“Then I guess it’s time we sat down together and had a little powwow about how to fight the Goold. ‘Cause they’re comin’ and we can’t stop ‘em.” He cocked his head, ideas spinning round like the cogs in a clock. “I’m thinkin’, maybe you guys can help.”

“Come,” the Unity suggested, gesturing toward the city. It floated up to street level and waited for Jack and company to climb up onto the platform.

“We will show you what we have done to prepare for our meeting with you. All is not completed yet, but will be ready soon.”

Carter stared wide-eyed in wonder as they passed by structures that moved out of their way as they approached. Some were decorated with little patches of small crystals; others seemed to have larger broken pieces embedded inside them, but everywhere Replicator chips and blue crystals merged to create the semblance of buildings, machines and people of varying races.

Some appeared to be a sophisticated as Reese herself. Others looked like tiny Asgard aliens.

San gaped at Daniel. “Is this not awesome?” she breathed to him.

Daniel said nothing, just looking about him with calculating eyes.

“This is a fortuitous development for the Asgard,” stated Teal’c. “They will be pleased to hear that the Replicators are no longer a threat.”

“Them and the whole _rest_ of the universe,” Jack agreed.

He followed the Being into a large, sunlit building – also made entirely of Replicator chips – and saw a table set up, complete with chairs.

The team was ushered into their seats, and the top of the table glowed as the windows high above darkened to reduce the intensity of the sunlight.

“We have examined the technology of the Goa’uld,” the Charlie-Unity announced, and a hologram appeared above the table, displaying complete diagrams of Apophis’s _ha’tak_ that the Replicators had eaten a few years back.

Jack had assumed the buggers had been destroyed with the ship when it went down on that planet, but apparently a few of them had managed to survive and ended up there. He turned his attention back to the briefing.

There were schematics for a sarcophagus, a ribbon device, a healing device, several weapons and assorted other machines that had been at Apophis’s disposal on board, all scrolling up in turn before them.

 “And we have designed devices to nullify each of the weapons. We are building space-going ships and small fighters, based upon the tactical knowledge we absorbed from you, Colonel O’Neill, at our last meeting, though the designs are our own, taken from technology we have absorbed from many other sources. We offer these to your people as our gift, for the friendship and compassion you showed us when we were vulnerable and dying on your world.”

Jack was stunned. He saw the holograms change to display the promised goodies, watched them in action, and knew how desperately needed they were. These could make the difference between annihilation and survival of the human race, all because he had been compassionate to a rock.

A rock that apparently had a soul. Maybe even lots of them.

“Thank you,” he breathed, making eye contact with the Unity. He stood up and moved to stand beside the creature, looking into its eyes.

_Brown eyes, just like Charlie’s; just like his own._

He extended his hand and shook the cold metal one held out to him that changed to simulate warm flesh in a matter of heartbeats.

“How soon can we get these, uh, ships and stuff?” asked Carter, her eyes gleaming with hope and excitement. “N-not to rush you, or anything.”

She was practically bouncing in her chair.

The Unity turned to her, still gripping Jack’s hand. “The larger ship is already completed, and is in geosynchronous orbit around our planet. There are already several hundred of the fighters on board, with the last hundred still to be completed. We calculate they will be ready in approximately seven of your days.”

“How long would it take to fly the mother ship to Earth from here?”

“Carter, wipe the drool off your chin,” Jack advised, pleased by her obvious enthusiasm, yet still stunned by this unexpected boon. His head was swimming with possibilities. They had a chance now, from a totally unexpected source.

Charlie-Unity smiled, and let go of Jack at last.

“Fourteen point seven six three hours.”

It turned to Jack again. “We have also constructed several simulators for the fighters, which you may use to train your pilots. They are also aboard the…” It nodded toward Sam. “…mother ship. Would you like to see it?”

Response was loud and enthusiastic.

The Unity projected a hologram into the middle of the room. Gleaming in space, it was crescent shaped and turned slowly on a horizontal plane so they could see it from every angle.

Jack moved up close and looked down at the top and squatted down for a view of its underside.

“Where’s the bridge?” he asked. “Weapons arrays? Hangar bays? And why this shape?”

The Unity pointed out all the features, and described the interior layout of the ship. Passageways were small and cramped for humans, it explained, but that was necessary for the design to be truly functional. Though the ship was capable of hyperspace travel, it was also elegantly maneuverable due to its unique shape, and fast in close quarters. The interior gravity generators would keep the crew in place during those tight turns and not fling them about inside as it moved.

Jack watched the hologram go through its paces as the Unity called out rotations and turns, and he started to smile.

“Campers,” he called to his team, “we may just have a chance after all.”

He stood up and made eye contact with the alien. “Can we go up and see it inside?”

Moments later, they all stood aboard the ship, in a ring room just like that from Apophis’ ship. Unity gave them a tour of the massive craft, completely automated to respond to voice commands, and then directed them to the hangar bay. The fighters were similar in design to the death gliders, but more angular and with a partially spherical projection on the top and bottom of the ships. Each of the semi-spheres was filled with holes.

Jack remembered seeing little laser bursts shoot outward in all directions from the holographic fighters, and suspected those were weapon arrays, and that the holes were muzzles of some sort.

“Sweet,” he said with a grin, running his hand along the smoothly polished surface of one of the fighters in reach. “Can I sit in it?”

The cockpit opened up by itself, but there was no chair. Instead, there was a harness complete with gloves made to fit human hands. The controls, the Unity explained, were virtual reality based and the interior chamber, when activated by the pilot, would give an accurate representation of the space surrounding the ship in a completely spherical view.

It would feel like he, himself, were the fighter.

“Do you like the ship, Colonel O’Neill?” the Unity asked.

“Oh, yeah, buddy. Next time you come to Earth, you can stay at _my_ place.”

“I look forward to a visit. We have also completed shields that will protect us from your planet’s electromagnetic field. We should not be a danger to anyone, now.”

That touched Jack unexpectedly. “You guys really _do_ care about others. How is it possible that rocks can be so compassionate? I don’t get it.”

The Unity’s smile was gentle and warm. “We are far _more_ than rocks, Colonel O’Neill, just as you are far more than animals.”

“Call me Jack,” he returned fondly. “And yeah. I _got_ that. You guys are somethin’ really special. Replicator parts and all.”

He reached out and hugged the Being, giving it a solid slap on the back as he let go. “Y’all are all right.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

He climbed inside the cockpit and the machine closed around him, the harness molding itself to fit his body perfectly. “Whoa. Sweet.”

“Greetings, Colonel O’Neill,” the ship said in his own voice. “How may I serve you?”

“It talks,” Jack observed. He could see the entire hangar bay, exactly as he had left it, with Sam craning her neck over the fighter closest to her, Teal’c’s eyes gleaming with interest and Daniel staring at the alien, trying to figure it out.

“This is gonna be so cool. Lemme out.”

The cockpit opened up again, and he stepped out. He looked at the alien. “Is that thing intelligent?”

“Each part of us has the same intelligence, though many of us have specialized to perform more specific functions.”

“So each of these ships is a living being?” Carter asked, her eyes calculating as they swept the hangar bay.

“Not life as _you_ may recognize it,” the Charlie-Unity answered. “But life as _we_ know it. Yes. We are the ships.” It gestured to the room around them. “As is the larger ship. As is the city below us. We are all living parts of the same structure, as are the cells in your body.”

Jack frowned. “You _do_ understand that, if we take these things into battle with the Gould, they’re gonna be damaged. Lots of ‘em are gonna be killed, right along with the pilots who fly ‘em.”

Charlie-Unity nodded. “Yes, Jack. We understand, and are ready to make the necessary sacrifice. The Goa’uld killed much of the Unity, long ago. They are an enemy worth fighting. The cause is worth the cost of our lives, and we are willing to give them. Just as you are willing to give yours.”

“These ships could probably fly themselves, couldn’t they?” Jack asked, thinking ahead.

“Yes. But we do not understand war or how battles should be fought. That is why we will need experienced warriors at the controls.”

“We can do that,” Jack promised. “But if one of the ships is damaged and the craft can make its own way back home, back to whatever home base we’re flying out of, you make sure they know to do that, especially if the pilot is hurt or dead. We want ‘em _all_ back. Okay?”

“We understand.” The Unity paused. “Would you like to try the simulators now?”

Jack felt his own eyes light up. “Oh, yeah. Let’s see what you folks have done with the brain you copied.”

Minutes later, Jack was strapped inside a big black sphere, bolted to the floor on one of the interior decks. Just as the fighter he’d sat in, the harness molded to his body. He slipped on the gloves and let the holographic interior walk him through how each of the devices operated. It was easy, geared to the process most pilots went through, but simplified so that any kid who played a lot of video games would be able to handle one. The craft basically flew itself, so that all the pilot had to worry about was weapons and moderate guidance. And since the pilot’s movements, ducking and dodging as well as point-and-shoot weapons control, were transmitted to the ship, instinctive reactions that might well save a pilot’s life – and his ship’s – would make it incredibly efficient as a war machine.

He exited the simulator with adrenaline and endorphins flooding his system, feeling like he’d just stepped off a roller coaster.

“Pretty cool, huh?” asked Daniel, standing off to one side with the Unity.

“Did you try it?” Jack watched Sam and Teal’c step out of their simulators and saw from the expressions in their eyes that they _loved_ the new toys. The Jaffa was beaming right along with the blonde woman beside him.

“Nah. I don’t think I’ll be flying one of those things,” the younger man returned flatly. He flexed his hands, watching his fingers move.

There was still pain, even after all the healing treatments he’d been through, and Jack knew it even though Daniel hadn’t said anything about it.

Jack was beginning to wonder if the pain of the other man’s ordeal would _ever_ really go away.

He had a hell of a burden to carry, the weight of many worlds on his mortal, human shoulders.

“That’s okay,” Jack assured him. “We’ve got plenty of pilots, and these things fly themselves. We’ll have a chance, now, thanks to you guys.”

He grabbed the Charlie-Unity again and hugged him. “Are you coming? ‘Cause I’ve got a lot of stuff to share with you. Like hockey.”

The Unity smiled. “Hockey. Yes. And baseball. You must teach us to play baseball.”

For a moment, Jack couldn’t speak, his eyes misting.

The reminder of Charlie was too powerful and he turned away, pretending to appreciate the casing that held the simulator to the floor.

He could feel eyes on him, knew without looking they were Daniel’s.

Sam and Teal’c chattered away in the background, oblivious.

“Yeah,” Jack rasped. “We’ll play baseball, Charlie.” He looked up into that face and felt his eyes filling with tears. “We’ll play any time you want.”

The Unity nodded. “But first, we must get your ship ready, and fly it home, to your world.”

“Yeah, about that,” Jack said, blinking the tears away and swallowing down his emotions. “How many fighters did you say you had completed?”

“Four hundred. The last hundred will be completed in seven days.”

“Can these babies be assembled in parts?” asked Sam. “Maybe they could be sent through the Stargate in sections, and final assembly completed at the base.”

“That is possible. You do not wish to wait?”

Jack shook his head. “Every minute we wait could mean the Gould are closer to Earth. We might not have the time.”

“Then we will send you the last of the fighters in sections. They can assemble themselves, if you wish, once the major sections have been built for them to fit into.”

“Sounds like a plan. Somebody needs to go back down and relay this info back to General Hammond, though.”

“I’ll do it,” Daniel volunteered. “I’ll go back through the ‘gate with, um, our friend here, and get diplomatic relations started with the Unity. By the time you guys get home, we should have everything ready to start receiving the last of the fighters through the ‘gate.”

“And meantime, we can be bringing this baby back to Earth,” Jack added. He couldn’t help smiling.

“Why have you returned?” the Charlie-Unity asked quietly. “We did not expect you.”

“Uh…” Jack glanced around at the Replicator chips surrounding him, composing virtually every moving part on the ship. “We heard the Replicators were headed this way, and were hoping to protect you from ‘em. Looks like we were too late, but it seems to have worked out in your favor.”

“You wished… to _protect_ us?”

Jack shrugged. “Well, you guys didn’t have much of a chance against the Gould, what with the lack of mobility and all. Figured you’d be sitting ducks if these things came after you.”

“We just didn’t think about the effect of beings with a conscience combining with machines that had no concept of compassion,” Daniel added quietly. “Looks like it turned out all right.”

“There was difficulty at first,” the Unity agreed. “The Replicator intelligence was geared to learning. We taught them that harming others for the sake of expansion was wrong. Now they understand. Growth is tempered with availability of energy. We waste nothing, and use only the resources of our world.”

It turned to Jack. “We will make this planet our home, and never travel outside it. Should the time come that we require additional resources in order to live, we will trade for them with our friends.”

“We are that, Charlie,” Jack assured it. He laid his hand on its shoulder. “So have you thought of a name for this baby yet, or were you going to leave that to us?”

“It is your gift,” Charlie-Unity smiled. “The choice of naming is yours, as it is an unnecessary convention among our kind.”

“We’ll give that some thought,” Jack assured it. He studied Daniel, assuring himself that his friend was all right. Then he turned to the Jaffa.

“Teal’c, you’re with Daniel.”

Then back to Jackson. “See ya soon, bro.”

Daniel nodded, and headed for the ring room with the Unity and the Jaffa in tow.

 

* * *

 

 

The iris opened with Daniel’s code, and he stepped into the gate room just in front of the Unity, with Teal’c bring up the rear.

He glanced at the soldiers snapping to combat poses, weapons at the ready, and called to them, his hands raised palm out to stop them.

“It’s okay,” he assured them, glancing up into the control room for General Hammond. “He’s a friend.” Daniel smiled. “We’ve discovered serendipity, sir! Shall we adjourn to the conference room for a briefing? You’re going to want to be sitting down when I tell you what we found on P3X-562.”

Moments later, the Charlie-Unity was seated in his fleshly form at the table, hands lightly clasped on the surface.

General Hammond sat staring at it, blue eyes wide and startled. “You’re telling me that this is… is a Replicator android?” he asked breathlessly.

Charlie-Unity began to return to its earlier blue-crystal face and metallic body composition in a few heartbeats.

“And they’ve _asked_ to be our allies, sir,” Daniel assured him. “Jack and Sam are on their way to Earth right now in a ship that might well be our only salvation against the Goa’uld. The Unity are producing five hundred fighters for us to use to protect the planet. We don’t have to be afraid of the Replicators anymore, because they have consciences now. They have a moral center, and we can thank the Unity for that.”

He shook his head, almost disbelieving it himself. “And isn’t it just a little bit ironic that the most feared creatures in the universe, even moreso than the Goa’uld themselves, have joined up with _us_ to fight _them_? I think we got ourselves a miracle here, sir.”

The General sat very still, never taking his eyes off the alien. “And you’re sure we can trust them?”

Daniel strolled up to the chair where Charlie-Unity sat and put both hands on the being’s shoulders.

“I like to think we got a pretty good view of their character when they were helpless here on our world. They came to find the chinks in our armor when they thought we were Goa’uld so they could exploit those weaknesses defensively. But when they realized we meant them no harm, their only thought was to keep from hurting us, even if it meant sacrificing their own lives. _Life_. I’m still not sure how to regard them, as a single being in a multitude of bodies, or individually in each form.”

“We are Unity,” explained the alien, now returning to its imitation fleshly look.

Daniel shook his head, feeling as if the weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders. “But to answer your question, yes, sir. I sincerely believe we _can_ trust them. They’ve selflessly offered us a chance at survival, knowing it could cost many of their lives. In my book, that goes beyond mere wartime alliance. I think we’ve made some true friends here.”

He regarded the dark blond head, and the Unity turned to meet his gaze. “Even if they’re _not_ life as we know it.”

A lump formed in Daniel’s throat, but he was finished talking. The General gave his characteristic twitch of the head when he was blown away by some development, and extended his hand to the Being.

“On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of planet Earth, we welcome the Unity to Stargate Command.”

Daniel stepped back to let the General do his ambassador stuff without interference, and just watched.

The information on the arrival of the ship and the fighters that would be delivered through the Stargate could come later.

What really mattered was what was happening right then and there in that Spartan room, and a galaxy away in a ship shaped like a crescent moon.

He thought about Reese. Jack had never been able to see her as alive, and now they were going to be dealing with her children… and with _rocks_ , as he had so inelegantly put it.

Jack was going to get a second chance to understand, and Daniel was going to put every effort into helping him get there.

That the Unity had Charlie’s face would help. So would the gift of the ships, but in the end, the illumination would have to dawn in Jack’s soul somehow.

The Colonel would have to grow as a person, to step outside the boundaries of his soldier mentality to get there.

And when he did, he was going to become a truly awesome human being.

 

* * *

 

 

#### 6 May

“You look tired, Colonel,” the General observed with a gentle smile as he greeted the weary travelers.

Jack stepped out of the circle where the rings had deposited him and sighed. “These Unity folk may be whizzes at this technical stuff, but they don’t know jack about comfort. No beds. And when they finally understood what we _did_ want, the ones they made were _hard_. I could use a nap.”

Hammond’s eyes were twinkling. “How was the ride?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Jack shook his head. “Un-frickin-believable, sir!” he shot back. “You gotta take a spin in one of these simulators. Got our pilots lined up?”

“The first draft picks are waiting in the multi-purpose room for a briefing. We just wanted to make sure you were up to it before we called ‘em all to attention.” The good humor faded quickly from the older man’s face. “We’ve gotten a few reports from Asgard outposts, Jack. There are four _ha’taks_ on the way here. At most, we may have a week before they arrive. Possibly days, depending on how big a hurry they’re in.”

Jack nodded. “I’ve got clearance to spill the beans to ‘em?”

“They’re going to be stepping into simulators that’ll teach them how to fly alien fighters in space and kill off Goa’uld invaders. Chances are, they’ll be using those skills long before they’re really ready to. I’d say that constitutes all the permission we need, but yes, son. They’ve been given clearance. And since they won’t be leaving the base till this mission’s over, I don’t think they’re gonna tell anybody anyway.”

“No time to sleep, then,” Jack returned uneasily. He sighed. “I just need to get something from upstairs before we get started. If you’ll go ahead and call the meeting to order, I’ll be right back.”

He reached for a small silver bracelet hidden under the sleeve of his BDU jacket, and pressed the blue jewel in the center.

Rings came down to fetch him, and the General was already gone when he returned from the ship. Jack headed for the multi-purpose room and strode in to stand beside Hammond, just then introducing him. When that was done, George handed him the microphone and stepped backward on the platform.

The Colonel stood at parade rest while he addressed the neat rows of men and women in Air Force flight suits, five hundred strong.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’re here because you’re the best pilots America has to offer,” he began proudly. “And _because_ you’re the best, your country…” He stopped, knowing how difficult this would be for these young people. “Your _world_ is asking you to offer up your lives to save the human race from an enemy you never knew existed, until now.”

He paused to let that sink in for a moment. “Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden are _gnats_ compared to what’s coming, and the people you love can’t afford for us to lose the war that’s almost on our doorstep. It won’t be fought in the Middle East. It won’t be fought in Russia or China, or even here on home turf.”

He glanced up at the ceiling. “It’s going to be fought up there, outside the atmosphere, somewhere within the boundaries of our solar system. And it’s going to happen sometime in the next few days.”

There was a titter of laughter in a far corner of the room.

“Think this is some kind of a joke, do ya?” he asked, looking over the heads of several smiling pilots, searching for the one who had made the noise. “Well, hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

He dropped the mic, touched the cuff, and vanished in the ring transport.

When he returned a moment later, he figured they got the message.

All eyes in the room were staring at him like _he_ was the alien invader. Some had broken posture and were crouched down, ready for action. He stiffened as the General barked an order to resume attention while he picked up the mic again, listening to the faint, barely audible whirr of machinery coming from the box he’d transported down with him that time, holding it lightly under his left arm.

“See, the thing is, we’ve been battling these aliens for goin’ on six years now,” Jack informed them casually. “Only most of that war has taken place on other worlds. Now it’s coming to us, here at home. He studied the faces of the recruits, and saw the fear dawning in their eyes. This was an enemy they couldn’t understand, one they had never imagined, and it was up to him to put things back into manageable perspective.

“Over the next few days, you won’t be sleeping much,” he continued. “You’ll be taking turns in simulators, learning how to pilot new fighters, made with alien technology that’ll blow you away. Only you don’t have time to be awestruck. You’re Top Guns, and you have to act like it. You have to learn how to fly your ships, how to work with them to nail these bastards to the wall. Until a few days ago, we didn’t have a _prayer_ of beating these things coming after us.”

He smiled, noticing the beads of sweat forming on more than one frightened face out there.

Something in the box tapped, just once, as a reminder.

“Hang on,” he said fondly. “I’m getting to your part.”

Then he resumed the speech.

“But somebody up there’s lookin’ out for us, boys and girls. We accidentally made friends with the most feared conquerors in the galaxy, and now they wanna help us kick some butt.”

He glanced down at the box behind him and cracked the top a little. “Come on out, Jiminy.”

The box lid flapped open, and a Replicator – in its original insectoid form, but enhanced with a small blue crystal imbedded in its central column – came crawling out and onto his arm.

It flapped its flightless wings and gave a small bow. Jack dropped the box onto the floor.

“Take a good look, campers,” he instructed the pilots. “These little guys may look like toys, because that’s what they were intended to be, once upon a time. But big things come in small packages, and these little guys… Well, that’s a long story, best told after the war’s over. All you need to know about them is that they’re our friends, and enemies of our enemy. Your ships are made out of the same chips this little guy is, and every _one_ of them is intelligent.”

Jack scratched his head, still reeling about the things he’d learned over the last few days.

“They even have souls.”

Where once the Replicator, fluttering its chip-structured wings, had been the source of great terror, Jack O’Neill began to feel a strange warmth as it happily sat on his shoulder.

“And they’re willing to lay down their lives right along with us to help us save our world.”

He made eye contact with the pilots who had laughed earlier at his talk of aliens. “You can’t ask for better friends than that, kids. And I’ll expect you all to treat the _machines_ you’re going to be using with the respect they deserve, because they are our friends.”

The pilots were very probably ready to change into fresh uniforms by now, but he wasn’t finished with them yet. “I’ll be taking you up in groups of four to the ship where our simulators are. Right now, it’s parked not too far from the moon. Once I’ve got the first group strapped into the simulators, I’ll come down for the next group. As soon as you think you’re ready to take one of the fighters out for a cruise, you exit the simulator and the next group goes in. We train this way until you can fly and fight in these things in your sleep. And when you think you’ve got a pretty good relationship going with your ship, you can come back down to the base here for food and rest. But till the bad guys get here, folks, you eat, sleep and learn your craft. We don’t have time for _anything_ else. Got it?”

He had to repeat himself a moment later before he got a response. Picking the four on the front row closest to him, he motioned them close, positioning them inside the circumference of the rings, and, kicked the box out of the way. Jack ringed them up all up, unaware of the man with the long hair who stood in the back of the room, shaking his head and smiling with tears in his eyes.

“Jiminy Cricket,” said Daniel Jackson. “He gave one a name. Jack, I think you got it.”

The Mandanu slipped out of the big room unnoticed, except for the sharp eyes of the General now answering questions from those left behind.

 

* * *

 

 

#### 13 May

“We have one more day, Colonel. How’s the training coming?” Hammond asked, barely looking up from his computer as O’Neill fell heavily into a visitor’s chair across from his desk.

“Most of these kids grew up on video games,” O’Neill answered. “They’re taking to their new toys like ducks to water.” The gravity of the situation wasn’t lost on either of them, but there were things needing to be done. “Permission to step off the clock for an hour or two,” he asked solemnly.

Hammond’s blue eyes read him correctly. “Permission granted. Where will you be, in case we need you, Colonel?”

“In my bunk,” he answered wearily. “Just need a little shut-eye.”

The General nodded. “Dismissed. I’ll be giving the order to round up all the academic staff shortly for transport to the Beta Site.”

“Including Daniel?”

“Given that he’s this Mandanu character, it seems doubly important that he be in a safe place.” Hammond’s mouth pressed firmly together for an instant. “And I’ll be ordering SG-one to go with him as part of his personal guard.”

“Sir.” Jack stood up, eyes forward, at parade rest. He already knew what Daniel’s answer to that would be. The General would have to fight tooth and nail to get Daniel Jackson to leave Earth at its darkest hour.

And military be damned, Jack O’Neill wouldn’t go quietly either.

“He’ll want to take all of his books,” the Colonel advised. “Maybe his cat.”

Hammond blinked slowly up at his 2IC. “Then you better go help him pack. I’ll leave it to you to inform the team.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

 

* * *

 

**14 May**

 

“Deep space telemetry reports four blips moving into the solar system, sir,” reported the technician. “Shall I send for Colonel O’Neill?”

The General sipped his coffee. He couldn’t remember when he’d slept last. “How long till they arrive?”

“At their current rate of speed, sir, approximately eighteen hours.”

Hammond stared out the glass at the ‘gate room, watching another fighter arrive in pieces through the open wormhole, which were then ringed up with one of the pilots.

He had seen them assemble themselves and head for the hangar bay in the SGC Spacecraft Charlie O’Neill in orbit, but still it was an awe-inspiring event.

This was the last one of the promised five hundred fighters, and the pilot who had gone up with it had trained only in the simulator, waiting for his ship to be finished.

Now they were all there, all five hundred aboard Earth’s only means of defense, hovering out there in space. He’d love to have been able to let Colonel O’Neill stay for just a few more hours, but they needed to get their scholars and other chosen survivors off Earth as soon as possible.

D-Day had arrived, and some of those who would be flying the incredible living machines would never sleep again.

He sighed. “Have him meet me in the briefing room, Walter.” He took himself there and checked the coffee pot. None had been made, so he started some and phoned the President from his office to inform him. All the preparations that could be made had been done.

Alpha Colony was secured with an Asgard ship protecting it. The Beta site had been set up to hedge  their bets against survival. Pilots had been trained as well as they could be, and would be deployed when the moment arrived. The only thing remaining to be dealt with was the strategy, which couldn’t be planned until they had some idea of how many Goa’uld warships they’d be facing, and from which direction they’d come into the attack.

Information would be coming fast now, regular updates on the _ha’taks’_ positions, along with any intelligence they might get from possible Tok’ra agents on board.

The Tok’ra had been suspiciously silent for the past week, and Hammond wondered what had happened to them.

His answer came in the form of Jacob Carter stumbling through the Stargate with a handful of Tok’ra operatives, battered and bleeding as they struggled to stay upright.

“We’re all that’s left,” he told Hammond mournfully. “All our spies on board the Goa’uld vessels have been neutralized. They have some new device that can tell the difference between Goa’uld and Tok’ra, and that’s not the half of it. I need to brief you on the weapons they’re using. It’s bad, George.”

Hammond nodded. “I take it you’ve seen them in action?”

He looked the survivors up and down, and saw that they looked like they’d been through hell.

“Take your people to the infirmary and get them settled. Colonel O’Neill’s on his way.”

Jacob nodded. “I’m not sure the new friends you made will be enough,” he said grimly. “Word is, the Goa’uld are kicking Asgard tail all over the place, as we speak.”

The incoming wormhole klaxons went off again, and Jacob took that cue to depart with his supporters for the infirmary, while Hammond returned to the command center.

The signal preceding arrival of their guests confirmed they were Asgard, and Hammond gave the cue to open the iris.

Two of the small gray beings stepped down the ramp, along with a small, slender woman Hammond recognized as one of the Nox.

“Greetings, General Hammond,” said Odin. “We have come for the Mandanu.”

Another figure materialized in the room beside them, and the soldiers on guard in the ‘gate reacted instantly, drawing down on the tall furry alien. It seemed to ignore the soldiers, turning its attention instead to the Asgard visitors with a formal bow.

“Our ship is awaiting you above, as it has been for many centuries.”

“We are grateful, Lord Hu,” Odin replied.

The Furling looked up into the command booth. “General Hammond, I am Lord Hu of the Furlings. The appointed time has arrived. We have kept watch on your people for a long time, waiting for the arrival of the Promised One. We cannot risk his being killed in battle, and so we must take him with us, where he will be safe until the battle is over.”

Hammond frowned down at the newcomer. “Are you saying you have a ship in orbit around this planet, and that it has always been there?” He was furious, filled with questions there was no time to ask.

The Furling’s ears twitched. “Not as a constant presence, but often. We were… elsewhere when Apophis and Klorel came to destroy you, or we would have aided you then. However, you seem to have done well enough without us.”

A rumbling chuckle echoed in the room. “That is one of the great talents of the Fifth Race. You adapt to the challenge facing you with great courage. We admire that. Yours is a passionate race, something that has been missing from our older races for a long time.”

He offered a graceful bow.

“The Mandanu, General Hammond,” Lya reminded him.

“Doctor Jackson will be moved to another of our off-world facilities,” Hammond informed the group. “He should be just fine there.”

He didn’t want to sound argumentative, just firm. He wanted to keep his people where he believed they’d be protected by other humans, and not have aliens – no matter how well intentioned – carting them off to God knew where.

Jack O’Neill appeared in the control room at his elbow during the last of the exchange. “Get him,” he advised the General softly. “He’ll be safer with them than with us.”

Hammond eyed his second. “You sure, Colonel?”

Jack’s dark, intense eyes went to the visitors below. He nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m sure. Daniel will want to see how things are going. Down here, he’ll be blind.”

Hammond turned and gave the order to one of the techs. “Shall we adjourn to the briefing room? It seems we all have a lot to discuss,” he told the aliens, and led the way personally.

“Be there in a minute, sir,” Jack called after him.

The General didn’t turn around or question the delay. Good-byes were being said all around the base, and only one more group of academics remained to be shipped off to the Beta Site. He understood how important it would be to his 2IC to see Doctor Logan off.

The proceedings could wait a couple of extra minutes.

For some people, a handful of minutes were all that remained of their lives. They deserved the chance to spend what few free seconds they could spare in the arms of those who were special to them. He thought of his grandchildren and said a prayer that they would be safe, but nothing was certain anymore.

He turned his attention toward the task at hand, and shut out the worries that might steal his concentration.

Today, he had to be sharp.

Today, the job was all that mattered… because today, the job was the survival of the human race.

 

* * *

 

 

**14 May**

Daniel strode into the conference room with his nerves jangling. He’d been in the infirmary with Doctor Frasier until late, discussing how to handle casualties of the coming conflict, determined to find a way to stay on Earth during the battle. The few hours of sleep he’d tried to get were disturbed and he’d tossed in his bunk endlessly, trying to find a comfortable position, until Jack had ordered him to go do something else so _he_ could catch a few winks.

Daniel had apologized and gone to his office to work, crashing for what felt like a few minutes of rest on his sofa, only to be awakened and summoned to the meeting.

“What’s up, guys?” he asked, his eyes lighting on the aliens. He offered a soft smile to Lya. “And ladies.”

She acknowledged his favor with a warm gleam in her big brown eyes.

“Armageddon is imminent,” Jack announced grimly. “And these guys have come to take you with them.” He paused. “For afterward.”

Daniel’s mouth fell open. “Hold on… I’m staying _here_!” He looked right at his CO. “Aren’t I?”

“Go get the robe, Daniel.” Jack’s eyes were studying some papers on the table. He didn’t want to look at Daniel as he sent him away.

“Jack…” He paused. “I _can’t_ do the Mandanu thing. I told you that.”

Those chocolate brown eyes were filled with pain as they slid up to meet his. “Then you’ll be someplace where you’ll be safe.”

“I’ll stay here. I can help the wounded,” he argued gently, doing his best to avoid what seemed inevitable now. “Jack, don’t make me—“

O’Neill rose from his seat and walked over to him. He took Daniel by the shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. “I’d love to just chuck all this and go fishing,” he said quietly. “But I can’t shrug off my responsibilities any more than you can. You saw the statue on that planet, Daniel. Hell, there were even scars on the forearms that you didn’t even _have_ yet.”

Daniel dropped his head at the reminder, his eyes automatically going to his hands. He flexed them. It still hurt. It probably always would.

Something inside him crumbled. His eyes misted. “Jack,” he whispered, struggling to speak past the lump forming in his throat. “I can’t—I can’t—“

Jack pulled him into a warm, gentle embrace. “We _have_ to, Danny. Both of us have parts to play here.” He eased back and took Daniel’s face in his hands. He smiled, but there was grief in his eyes. “This has always been coming for us. I’m the warrior. You’re the peacemaker. Maybe you don’t believe you can do this mystical thing right now. Maybe they got it wrong, but _I_ believe in you, Daniel Jackson. You’ve always seen the right way of doing things. So go do that now, okay? Save me from myself.”

Daniel nodded, his heart sinking.

Time seemed to tick in slow motion as he rose, every eye following him as he headed for the stairs, plodding down them one heavy footfall at a time clanging against the metal steps. The walk to his room seemed to take forever. He pulled the robes out of the tiny locker where he kept his personal gear and stared at them draped over his bunk as he took off his wrinkled BDUs.

His fingers caressed the fabric, smooth as satin but kind of creamy-feeling, like no cloth he’d ever touched before. The stitching was all but invisible on the seams, melding the black and white pieces together perfectly at the shoulders. The feather embroidered on the back was vibrant with color, scarlet tendrils reaching upward like flames to surround the black and blue eye at the top of the design.

It was beautiful. The design was simple yet elegantly symbolic. The Feather of Maat stood directly between evil and good, both merging together at the end of the garment in a sea of blood.

“I can’t,” he whispered to himself. “I’m not the One. I’m just a guy, caught in the middle.”

He shook his head and dressed instead in a black T-shirt and jeans. He carried the garment out with him, handing it over to Lya in the conference room without a word.

“You will not wear your colors, Mandanu?” she asked gently.

“It isn’t mine,” he shot back, his voice rough with emotion, sounding harsher and angrier than he meant.

She accepted the robe and offered a slight bow. “We go to our ship, then. You may watch the battle from there.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jack arrived on the transport deck of the Charlie O’Neill alone. He went to the bridge first, going over the final details with General Hammond on the battle strategy. From there, he headed for the flight deck where Carter, Teal’c and the other pilots stood waiting. He gave them a nod of greeting and returned their crisp salutes, then sidled over to the ship he had trained with, stepping inside briefly.

“Greetings, Colonel O’Neill,” it said in his voice.

“Say, pal, could you do another voice instead of mine?”

“Certainly. Do you have a specific choice, or shall I choose from the other pilots?” it asked, its speech pattern wildly different from his own.

Jack pulled a small tape recorder from his jacket pocket and played a piece of tape. He had borrowed the recorder from Logan’s desk just for this. The machine was a device she used in the field to record notes, and she’d used quite a bit of tape on this one already. He rewound it a little and played it aloud. “Can you copy this?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Tell me when I can stop the tape,” he told it.

“I have enough. Thank you, Colonel.”

He turned off the tape and put the recorder back into his pocket. “You can call me Jack,” he told the fighter.

“Thank you, Jack.”

He started to say something else, then stopped. “You need a name,” he observed.

“Why?”

“Because that’s one way we tell each other apart,” he explained. “What kind of name would you like?”

“We do not distinguish one of our entities from others,” it replied, now in Logan’s husky, sexy voice.

That sent shivers all through him. “I’ll call you Seneca,” he said softly. “How’s that?”

“May I ask who you know by that name?”

“The lady whose voice you’re using. She’s very special to me.” He laid his hand on the smooth surface of the bubble where he’d be piloting the craft. “And so are you.”

“Thank you, Jack. I will do my best to respond quickly to your commands.”

“I know you will, Seneca. You ready to kick some Goold ass?”

“Affirmative.”

“Seneca would say, ‘Hell, yeah.’ Whyn’t you try that on for size?”

“Hell, yeah, Jack!”

He smiled. It even got the enthusiastic delivery right. “See you in a few, Seneca.”

He stepped out of the craft and patted the chip-laden hull fondly. The color began to change slightly beneath his fingers, and he watched it. The grayish metal turned bright white in several places as lines began to form. The lines became letters, and the name Seneca appeared in a line over the top of the craft. “Nice job,” he complimented it. “I like that.”

“Colonel,” Sam called, waiting now beside his fighter. She glanced at the new feature on the hull. “That looks nice. Is that your call sign?”

He shook his head and grinned. “As long as we’ve been together, and we still don’t know each other’s call signs? What the hell’s wrong with us?”

She shrugged. “Mine’s ‘Boss.’ The guys thought I was too big for my britches, but I _loved_ hearing my REO call me that.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I can see how that fits you, Carter. Mine’s Blackjack.”

He glanced toward Teal’c, now walking toward them. “The Big Guy needs a call sign. Whatcha think?”

Carter cocked her head and studied the tall, brawny man. “Tiny? Smiley?”

“Mongoose,” Jack suggested. “I hear they’re great snake-killers.”

He patted the hull of his fighter. “ _This_ is Seneca.”

He bent down to speak softly to his fighter, and as he straightened up, the writing changed to include his call sign.

Jack patted its smooth surface fondly. “Nice!”

“Colonel O’Neill,” Teal’c greeted his CO. “Has a strategy been decided?”

His face was as impassive as ever, his tone all business.

Jack and Sam looked at each other in sync.

“Smiley!” they agreed in unison.

O’Neill addressed the big guy. “Yes, and I’ll be calling everyone together shortly to spell it out.” He grinned. “For the moment, we’ve decided to give you a call sign. That’s an honorary nickname that pilots use to call each other during flights. Yours is now Smiley, for obvious reasons.”

“I do not often smile, O’Neill.”

“Exactly. I’m Blackjack and this is Boss. Congrats, Teal’c. You’re officially a USAF pilot, call sign and all.”

Teal’c’s right eyebrow lifted, but that was all the expression he offered in response.

Jack clapped his hands and raised his voice to the group of pilots milling around the hangar deck. “Listen up, people!”

The group assembled quickly into neat rows, all standing at attention, eyes forward.

Glancing behind him, he scanned the rows of fighters at rest on the deck, and knew they would be listening as well.

“First things first. These ships are our _friends_. They’re our allies, and they deserve recognition as more than just machines. I hope you’ve been respecting them in that manner, because to finish off this relationship, you’re giving them names. Tell your ship your personal call sign, and they’ll label themselves.”

He gave Seneca a little pat.

“After you’ve done that, reassemble here and we’ll get started on the strategy.”

Pilots broke rank and headed for their fighters. He watched with a sense of satisfaction as names began appearing on each craft, all five hundred of them. The pilots returned to formation with different looks on their faces, as if a missing piece had finally slid into place and cemented man and machine into indelible union.

He made eye contact with Carter, who gave him a smile and a nod of approval.

 She stepped up to him and saluted. “Troops assembled and ready for briefing,” she reported.

He returned the salute and reached for the comm. unit on his shoulder.

“Send ‘em in, General.”

A moment later, an army of Replicator bugs marched into the hangar bay, streaming past the human beings, climbing up onto the fighters and settling into place, clinging to the framework. Jack watched the first few, then turned his gaze to the pilots.

Some of them he knew well, having spent years working with them at the SGC. Others he had seen occasionally, and some he didn’t know at all, new recruits brought in especially for this mission.

Most of the newbies looked like kids, and his heart went out to them.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, making eye contact here and there. “We are helpless here. We have no way to penetrate the shields of the Gould ships on their way to destroy us. I want to make that very, painfully clear. You got that?”

Pilots shifted on their feet nervously. Those who were SGC veterans remained still, eyes forward, because they understood. They knew what was coming next.

“Those little buggers that just crawled onto your ships are the key. If we don’t get them to the _ha’taks_ – the Goold mother ships – we won’t have a prayer. They can’t be sent in fast or long range, because someone on board those _ha’taks_ would see ‘em and blow ‘em out of the sky. We have to carry them in discreetly, give them a chance to float in through the shields, so we have to get _close_. That means a lot of us are gonna be blasted out of the sky. All we have to do is get just _one_ of these little guys through, and we can do whatever we want with those snaky sons of bitches.”

Relief washed over the faces of those unfamiliar with the Replicators.

“They are the only chance _we_ have, ladies and gentlemen.” He glanced at the ship called Seneca fondly, with its bugs firmly attached. “And _we_ are the only chance our planet has. If we fail, Earth will be destroyed. So we won’t fail. That is _not_ an option. Understood?”

The response was enthusiastic, filled with pride… and fear.

“So here’s how it’s gonna go down, campers,” he continued. Beside him, a holographic simulator stood waiting. The battle strategy had been programmed in and the ghostly projection illustrated exactly what each group should do, and when they should act.

What they knew of Goa’uld psychology figured highly, and it gave them a chance… slender and fragile, but it was something.

And _all_ of it depended on the Replicators and the Unity, gentle friends and one of their worst enemies. Without them, there would be no chance at all.

Jack finished his speech and thanked them all for their sacrifice. He shook each pilot’s hand before sending them to their ships, and as the _ha’taks_ began to make their move into the near reaches of the solar system, Jack O’Neill directed his fighter out the bay first, leading the others into war. In the silence of space, he thought about how they had come to be there, and shook his head with a smile.

The universe, it seemed, had a tremendous sense of irony, to pair them up with the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy to fight those who would be gods.

An image of Reese flitted through his memory, and he saw Daniel sitting beside her on the ‘gate room floor, tears streaming down his face.

_Daniel had been right._

Then again, he usually was.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel barely even looked at anyone as he stood in the ‘gate room with the aliens. A set of slender gold rings appeared around them to take them into the waiting spaceship, and moments later he stood on what appeared to be the deck of a craft, open to space.

Eyes wide with fear, he glanced around at the others.

No one was dying from asphyxiation. No one was exploding. Everyone seemed just fine. It was even comfortably warm on the deck, and a handful of other Furlings stood at stations in a small chamber just below the control panel, where Lord Hu took his place as they arrived.

“This ship is cloaked with a shield of the Ancients design,” Odin explained. “What you would call the bridge is enclosed in a holographic bubble, which gives us a complete view of the space surrounding us. Over there you see your moon, and the Replicator ship hiding in its shadow. Down beneath us is your world.”

Daniel’s eyes followed the Asgard chieftan’s gestures, and saw with great clarity the things pointed out to him. It was as if the holographic display compensated for distances, for the images were clear, looking close enough to touch though they were millions of miles away. He looked in the distance, past Mars looming angrily in the background, and watched the approach of four _ha’taks_ , lit up on every deck and bristling with power.

The Goa’uld were coming to destroy his world, his people, his friends, and he was going to have to watch. He steeled himself for what was to come, and fixed his attention on the gleaming crescent shaped ship hiding behind the moon, out of sight of the approaching _ha’taks._ A small squadron of fifty fighters had been launched and were going out to meet the Goa’uld motherships.

Daniel wondered if any of his teammates were in that group, certain that Jack was probably leading the attack.

It was suicide, and every one of those pilots knew it. The _ha’taks_ began firing at them as soon as they were in range, but Daniel’s spirits lifted as he saw the fighters dodging the massive weapon strikes, and flying in close. The _ha’taks_ were ponderous and slow compared to the little Replicator ships, and responded by sending out death gliders to knock the squadron out of the sky.

The _ha’taks_ drew closer, and then began to spread out as they neared the moon, each angling for a different area of the planet to target. One ship moved into place over the Eastern seaboard and began to lay down streams of liquid fire, most likely destroying New York City or Washington DC on the first pass. Another ship moved out of sight behind the planet, while the last two brushed off the attack from the squadron of Earth pilots as if they were gnats.

The last ship to appear was different from the others, with an array of what looked like cannons on the front of the ship.

“Osiris,” Daniel guessed. He knew what those long projections were, what they could do, and was certain that Osiris would not have shared her most special new device with the other System Lords.

 _She has taken my place,_ Anubis purred in his mind. _She will carry out my plan as if it were her own. The universe will bow down to her. It will belong solely to the Goa’uld._

“No way, José,” he whispered back, teeth clenched in rising anger. “Give ‘em hell, Jack!”

From behind the moon, the _Charlie O’Neill_ surged into action. More fighters spewed out from between the horns of the crescent, engaging the closest ship as what remained of the first fighter squadron caught up and joined in. The death gliders were outnumbered now, and in short order they were shot down. The Tau’ri fighters swept in close enough to touch the _ha’tak_ shield, then skidded off to turn around and come back for additional passes.

Daniel barely noticed when the lights on one deck went out on the _ha’tak_ a few minutes later. They came back on shortly after that, only to be followed by another power outage. Lights began to fail all over the ship, followed by the shield, and when that went down, the Unity fighters roared in to wreak havoc on the _ha’tak_ , crippling it before the _Charlie O’Neill_ came in to finish it off.

Osiris seemed to have taken notice of the attack shortly after it began, but the cumbersome craft took some time to turn around. By the time it arrived, the first _ha’tak_ was smoking and the squadron of Tau’ri fighters were shoring up their numbers as they headed for the next _ha’tak,_ the one over America. That one had moved across the country and was raining down fire in the midlands, working its way across the continent to the west coast.

Again, a small contingent of fighters came in close, just grazing the shields as death gliders came after them. Some of the Goa’uld fighters angled down to the planet, attacking smaller cities in the wake of the massive destructive force of the motherships, but the Tau’ri fighters went after them, maintaining both fronts as they whittled the bigger ship down. 

When the lights on the _ha’tak_ began to flicker, Daniel smiled as he guessed what the strategy was.

The fighters were getting in close enough to deposit however many of the Replicator bugs as they could get in, bouncing off the shields to give the little beasties a chance to literally hop off the fighters and sink slowly through the shield until it was inside. Once it made contact – even if only one survived the drop – it would land on the _ha’tak_ hull and replicate, then send its small army into the bowels of the Goa’uld mothership to target the shields, the power supply, the life support systems, anything to drive the Goa’uld nuts while they tried to figure out what the hell was happening to their craft. And once the shields were down, the Tau’ri fighters would come in with their low-tech weapons and the inventive pulse bombs that the Unity had created, and take the _ha’tak_ down.

So far, the plan was working, but Osiris’s ship was gaining on them. Soon enough, she would be taking aim on the _Charlie O’Neill_ and either blow a hole in it the size of Australia, or send it to the other side of the universe with the portal generator on the forward portion of her _ha’tak’s_ hull.

“Jaffa, _kree!”_

Daniel recognized that authoritative voice. He turned around to see a hologram standing on a small raised disk on the forward portion of the bridge. Teal’c addressed his people in their native tongue, probably from the bridge of the Charlie O’Neill. He looked _magnificent_ , and Daniel’s heart swelled with pride.

“Cry freedom, my brothers!” said the Teal’c hologram. “Too long have we been oppressed by false gods. Know that these beings you worship have no power over you, as they have none over me. I live now without a _prim’ta_ , free of the need to incubate their young.”

He lifted his T-shirt, and revealed the nearly-healed scars where his pouch had once been and continued his rousing speech.

“I fight with the Tau’ri to free my people. If these are _true_ gods you serve, they can stop the message now being broadcast to you all. If they are _true_ gods, they can strike me down where I stand, aboard the Tau’ri ship that even now blasts them out of the heavens. Look around you, my brothers! If they were gods, we could not defeat them, and we have. Lay down your arms and join the Tau’ri. Cry _freedom_ , Jaffa! Seize your future, and live or die free!”

Daniel felt the rush of passion that went with that speech, felt it bolster his soul. How humble he felt, fighting by the side of a man like that! Teal’c was perhaps the greatest warrior he had ever known, and yet he was quiet and kind, selfless with those he loved. Daniel felt honored to have such a man for his friend… for his _brother_.

The _Charlie O’Neill_ expelled another squadron of fighters and slipped behind the now flickering _ha’tak_ over North America as Osiris’s ship began to close the gap between them.

He watched in wonder as, one by one, many of the death gliders dropped away from the battle and ceased firing back.

“Go, Teal’c,” Daniel breathed, managing a small smile.

Those Jaffa who had been on the fence with their beliefs had been swayed, but there weren’t enough to change the balance in favor of the Tau’ri.

The rebel death gliders headed slowly toward the planet, and one of the Replicator ships broke off to lead them down to someplace where they could land and be taken into custody.

Still, it made a huge psychological difference. Those who had turned were people who could be helped, who would not have to die in the conflict.

In Daniel’s mind, that was a blessing.

Lord Hu gave an order in his native tongue which Daniel did not understand, and the rebel ships were caught in a beam of energy projected from his vessel.

“Wait! What happened to them?” Daniel demanded, turning around to look at the tall alien. “Where did they go? They just disappeared! They were surrendering.”

“And they must be judged, along with everyone else in this conflict,” Lord Hu explained. “The pilots have been collected belowdecks in this vessel, and their ships have been destroyed. You may see them if you wish.” He gestured toward a railing around a spiral staircase that no doubt led to other decks below the bridge.

Daniel shook his head. “I can’t leave,” he told the Furling. “I’ll have to trust you on that.” He turned his attention back to the battle.

Osiris’s ship was in pursuit of the swifter _Charlie O’Neill_ , now dispatching the second _ha’tak._ In seconds it sat as an apparently lifeless hulk in the starry sky, while the _Charlie O’Neill_ collected its fighter contingent and moved on around the planet, chasing the last _ha’tak_ , hidden from sight behind the Earth. Lord Hu’s ship floated over the north pole, affording a view of the backside of the globe, draped in darkness as it faced away from the sun.

Already fires were glimmering on the surface of the planet, lighting up cities in China and Japan, all over the island nations scattered on that side of the globe.

His heart twisted as he thought of all the death and dying taking place on his world. This last _ha’tak_ had been in place longest, and done the most damage, while Osiris’s flagship simply played chase with the _Charlie O’Neill_ , riding in their wake and angling for just one shot that would most likely destroy them.

He dodged as a beam of light spurted out from the Goa’uld flagship toward the Tau’ri ship, missing by a million miles, but close enough to make him react as if he could move it out of the way with his own body.

More volleys came fast and heavy, but the gunners were nervous and hurried, and continually missed it by a wide margin. The _Charlie O’Neill_ sped well past the last Goa’uld ship, putting it between itself and Osiris and maintaining a ragged course that would make it hard to hit. The fighters skated close to the last ship, and a couple of them crashed into the shield, disappearing into balls of flame. Death gliders exited from the two ships in fierce numbers, vastly outnumbering the Replicator fighters nearly eight to one. They began picking off the fighters until the losses were staggering, and with each fiery death, Daniel felt the loss as if any one of them were people he knew and loved.

Jack might already be gone. So might Sam and Teal’c and all the other pilots he knew from SGC. They were losing the battle, even though they had destroyed two of the ha’taks, and the lights on the third were now flickering as the Replicator bugs went to work on the internal systems and shields. In a matter of minutes, it would all be over, and there would be no more resistance.

Osiris would be able to destroy the planet at her leisure.

There would _be_ no judgment day, and Daniel’s wish would be granted.

He wouldn’t have to serve as Mandanu.

_You got what you wanted, didn’t you?_

That cruel, soft voice that only he could hear taunted him.

_You prayed to your God to be relieved of the responsibility. It appears your prayers were answered._

“No,” he breathed as a tear slipped down his cheek. He stood at the far side of the deck from the others, holding onto the railing that kept him from bumping into the holographic ceiling and walls. But a part of his own soul echoed the symbiote’s accusation.

He _had_ prayed for the cup to pass from him, for there to be another way.

Apparently, _this_ was it.

He looked up, straight up into the star spangled blackness above him.

“I was arrogant,” he prayed softly. “I was a coward, and I regret that. I won’t complain about it again, if you’ll save my world.”

 _I’ll do the job. I’ll be the Mandanu,_ he promised himself. _Whatever it takes, even if it’s more than I have to give._

He put the garment on over his clothes, settled it in place and turned back to the battle, watching as the third _ha’tak_ began to explode into flame. There was only one left, but Osiris’s ship would be armed with the most powerful of the weapons Anubis had discovered on Siraket.

Osiris would be seething with rage at this destruction of her forces. She would want vengeance on the Tau’ri. She would stop at nothing—

The Goa’uld flagship was activating the cannon-like array on the prow of the _ha’tak_. Tau’ri fighters were already swarming it, suffering heavy losses, but fighting on nonetheless. The death gliders remaining in the air turned and streamed toward the mothership, the last of them stealing into the hangar deck just as the portal cannons fired off the energy beams that would open a doorway in space, pre-programmed to the settings Anubis had put into it.

Anubis had wanted to go back to the beginning, back to the place where the prophecy began, to the homeworld of the being he had so loved, and walk among the ruins of her civilization, triumphant over the doom the Tejennans had spread, the legend that had gotten their race destroyed.

Osiris would not know how to reset it, but wherever the portal went, it would give her a clear shot at escape.

Only the Replicators had already been sabotaging the controls, and the portal stayed open for far longer than had been intended.

The Tau’ri fighters and the _Charlie O’Neill_ streamed in after them, and just before the portal winked closed, the Furling ship sped through the glowing opening after them.

 

* * *

 

Daniel stood on the bridge of the Furling ship, his hands curled into fists as he stared up at the holographic canopy that showed the space all around the small craft.

The wounded _ha’tak_ was in orbit around a planet far distant from Earth, and around it swarms of death gliders and Replicator fighters fired on each other and disappeared in balls of flame. Pieces of machinery fell to the planet’s surface as streaks of light, and he knew that each one of them could be someone he loved.

 

“I should be out there,” he said quietly, holding back tears. “I should be with my team… my family.”

“You cannot,” Lord Hu assured him, his voice a soft rumble. “You are the Mandanu. Those who survive cannot afford to lose you in battle.” The alien’s hand settled lightly on Daniel’s shoulder. “And you are not a soldier, Daniel. You do not fight well. You fight passionately for those whom you love, but that would only get you killed out there.”

The lump in his throat kept him from arguing. He continued to stare out at the battle. For a long time it seemed that the Goa’uld had been winning, but when the _ha’taks_ were damaged, when Osiris called her fighters in and ran, Daniel knew the tide had turned. The pursuers had emerged into this unknown section of space just after the Goa’uld ship had come to a crippled stop, and once again the death gliders exited, making a last-ditch effort to safeguard their god.

That had been hours ago. Daniel’s hands hurt from clenching so hard, for so long. He was exhausted, but there was no way he was leaving his one vantage point, where he would know what was going on. He watched a death glider break off from the fighting and streak toward the planet, followed by another, and then another.

All of them stopped firing, turning planetward, and the Tau’ri’s Replicator fighters drove after them.

“It is finished,” Lord Hu pronounced. His large hand gave the man’s shoulder a squeeze. “Now, we must go down to the world below.”

Daniel headed for the ring room with his three alien companions in his wake, nervous hands smoothing down the robe, fidgeting with it.

The transporter deposited them in a city square, three metal braziers tipped over at the corners, the fourth still standing upright. Daniel recognized the place immediately.

It was Tejenna, where the prophecy began, and destiny had found him.

Ships and bodies and detritus littered the open plain. Where the ruins of the city once stood was now only rubble. Even the great statue that SG-1 discovered in the square months past was gone, now in pieces no larger than marbles. The smell of burned flesh and ozone made it difficult to breathe, but a gentle breeze picked up and brought a little freshness with it.

Daniel blinked back tears as he stared over the scene, looking at the uniforms of the fallen to see if any of the corpses were familiar.

“I should have gone up with them,” he said aloud, to no one in particular. “I should have been fighting with them.”

 His heart was breaking as he turned over a fallen SGC soldier and recognized her. Major Majors wasn’t even all there; just pieces of her, along with the Replicator fighter she had piloted. Not far away were Captain Connors, Major Griff, Lieutenant Hernandez, Captain Merritt, and more. All friends and acquaintances, people he knew. People he would never see at work again.

He closed Majors’ eyes, heedless of the blood on his fingers, and wept.

“It is time, Mandanu,” said a soft voice behind him.

He straightened, mouth hanging open in a grimace of grief. “Huh? Wha—what?” He turned around to regard those who had brought him to that terrible place, blinking back the tears so he could see.

Lya stood there, flanked by Odin and Lord Hu. “It is time,” she repeated. “All who are left are being collected. Soon they will be brought here for judgment. You must be ready.”

Daniel shook his head. “I can’t.” His hands were shaking. He saw the blood on them, and wiped it on his black T-shirt sleeve.  "I don't know what to do."

Lord Hu reached out and grasped Daniel’s right arm. He twisted it gently, lifting near the elbow to draw attention to the tattoo of the black jackal reclining there. Daniel refused to look at it.

The Furling’s pale hand slid down his forearm, smoothing over the raised, ugly crucifixion scar just below his wrist.

“You, of all of us, are the most qualified, Daniel. You understand better than anyone else what must be done. You belong to the shadows and the light, as the Tejenna foresaw. What happens next will be up to you alone.”

Daniel let his arm drop to his side, his head bowed, his heart a raw wound in his chest. "What do I do?"

“Trust yourself, Daniel Jackson,” Odin advised quietly, moving around to face him. “Look _inside_ for the guidance you seek, Mandanu. It is not out here.” The Being gestured to the battlefield with one small hand, drawing Daniel’s eyes back to the carnage.

Another tear spilled over his eyelashes, and he closed out the view.

Dropping slowly to one knee, he put his right hand to his heart and bowed his head. He was wobbly, and balanced himself with his left hand pressed to the blood-soaked earth.

In his mind's eye, he recognized the posture.  _This_ was the vision the extinct Tejenna had seen, of the Mandanu kneeling on the battlefield, searching his heart for peace, asking his God for the wisdom and guidance he would need to make the right decision.

He lost all track of time as he knelt there, waiting for inspiration.

He didn’t want to lift his head, didn’t want to see any more death or destruction, didn’t want to be the one to judge the survivors of such a horrifying ordeal, but at last he understood and accepted the mission.

He was the Mandanu, the Divine Judge, the Lathe of Heaven, and it was time to bring the Tejennans their peace.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack set his fighter down as near to the ‘gate as he could get, and ran as fast as he could go toward the square where he knew Daniel would be.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of the man kneeling _exactly_ where the statue had once been, the robe of the Mandanu draped over his back and shoulders, in _exactly_ the same position.

The Tejennan circle spun silently above Daniel’s head, and below his feet, a solid disk was appearing.

The aliens with him began to back up.

Jack tried to go to his friend, but the Furling held out an arm to bar his way.

Lord Hu shook his head, his starry eyes full of mystery.

Jack moved to where Daniel would see him as soon as he opened his eyes.

Transporter rings began to appear all around him, depositing System Lords and Jaffa, Asgard, Nox and Furlings everywhere.

More of the Tau’ri ships landed in the distance, and with great relief he saw the blonde head of one of the pilots racing toward him.

“Sam,” he whispered, filled with relief that she had survived. How he loved her! But as she neared, he saw that she was bleeding and holding her side. There were no medics on that planet; no help was handy. He caught her up in a tight embrace, and murmured that she should get back through the Stargate to the base for treatment.

She shook her head, nodding toward the praying man. “My place is here,” she whispered back to him. “It’s not bad. I can wait. I need to be here, for him.”

Jack nodded, understanding. He lifted his head and scanned the crowd for a tall, dark man with a golden emblem on his forehead, but Teal’c was nowhere to be seen. His heart sank, and he began to grieve.

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel was tired. He had never felt so much sorrow, so much loss weighing him down. His head swam with it, and when he pressed to his feet, he could hardly keep his balance. Staggering, he grasped the robe as it started to fall off his shoulders. He pulled the garment on over his head, settled it until it felt comfortable, heedless of how he looked.

He wept, tears streaming down his face as he saw the battle in his memories, so fresh and raw.

 _It was over,_ they had told him. _Everyone was waiting._

_But for what? What was he supposed to do?_

He opened his eyes, and an ocean of people stretched out as far as he could see. They were shining, lit up like Shannon had been on Siraket. He could see the red and gold swirls inside those who were host to the Goa’uld, and the blues and greens of people he thought he knew. Some of the lights were very tall – Furlings, he guessed – and the very small ones would be Asgard and Nox.

They were breathtakingly _beautiful_ , every one of them, and he smiled.

The heaviness in his heart lifted suddenly as he drank in the sight. Faces were little more than a blur in the brightness, and he realized he couldn’t recognize anybody. Energy surged through him, and he could hear the hum of some electronic device in operation. He wondered briefly what it was. Glancing upward, he saw what appeared to be a small black hole directly above his head, the accretion disk around it swirling as energy was pulled into it – and down into him.

Daniel understood. He gasped as he felt the power flowing into him, lifting him slightly off the ground. It was like an electric current, standing too close to a fire and being naked in the Arctic all at once, unbearable agony and immeasurable bliss, all shooting through him simultaneously like lightning bolts.

He couldn't think; could barely breathe.

The disk beneath his feet rose with him, then floated away from his soles until he hung suspended between the solid disk and the halo above him.

His heart pounded as knowledge poured in with the energy, and he realized he could see… _with Tejennan eyes._

“Jack?” he called, fear making him tremble. “I need you.”

He couldn’t do this without his family. If they hadn’t made it…

“Here, Daniel. Are you okay?”

The most enchanting cobalt blue shape drifted forward, speckled with turquoise and emerald, with a little purple here and there. The shape was right in front of him, on the ground a few feet away from the disk below his boots.

“I can’t see you, Jack,” Daniel said softly, wishing he could touch the familiar planes of the face he knew so well. “But it’s okay. You’re beautiful just like you are.”

He heard the hitch of breath as Jack started to say something – probably a wisecrack – and then closed his mouth. This wasn’t the time for levity, and both of them knew it.

“I’m _here_ , Daniel. Whatever you need, I’m _here_.”

“Stand with me, Jack?”

“You know I will.”

Some of the agony eased. He could think a little with Jack at his side.

Daniel looked at other shapes nearby and spotted a delicate rose pink, tinged with gold. “Sam, is that you?”

“Here, Daniel.”

There were tears in his voice, and he saw that she was wounded. He poured a little of his energy into her, directing it to the wound as if he had a healing device.

Only this time, he _was_ the healing device.

“Stand with me, Sam?” He felt how startled she was that he had healed her. “I don’t know how I did that, so don’t ask.”

“Always,” she answered.

He could breathe, now that Sam was at his side.

Daniel searched the crowd for Teal’c, but didn’t see what he thought were the right colors.

He hoped his friend had survived, but knew he needed to get on with what had to be done.

“Hey, why don’t we get you out of that thing?” O’Neill asked, keeping his voice casual. “I don’t like the looks of it. We don’t know what it’s capable of.”

 _“I_ know, Jack,” Daniel confessed. “I know exactly what it’s for, now. And we shouldn’t stop it. I have to do this. I’m the only one who can. The machine is calibrated to my body.” Daniel smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me.”

He could see worlds away, everyone here and on Earth and Alpha Colony and the Beta Site, everywhere that a Goa'uld lay hidden. In the wink of an eye, he brought them there, calling them through the Stargates, and everywhere, they bent to his will. 

He felt the trapped hosts calling for help, and knew he could deliver them, if he could just stand it for a little longer.

“You can turn it off, can’t you? I mean, you know how to do it, right?”

The Mandanu nodded. “Yes, Jack. I can, but I won’t. I have to do this. I have to free these people from their torment.”

The machine would only work once, he knew. Once it was shut down, it would never come on again, and if he didn't finish this, the Tejennans' deaths would have been for nothing.

This was why he had been chosen. He had endured great suffering and loss. He had also found great, fathomless love, and some of it was standing on either side of the circles, keeping him alive.

 _"Bring me Osiris,"_ Daniel commanded, but not with a mere human voice. It was the sound of thunder and lightning, the stormy sea and the violent quaking of the earth all rolled into one.

There was some shuffling in the crowd, but in a few moments, a pair of soldiers brought the blonde woman to stand in front of the circles.

The symbiote inside sparkled bright red, a cloud of rage filling the human form.

 _“Come out!”_ Daniel demanded,  _“I command you, come out!”_

That voice held the timbre of unimpeachable authority, at once Daniel’s and something more. The landscape rang with the order, the sound of his voice vibrating in every heart.

To the astonishment of the crowd, the creature obeyed, exiting through the host’s mouth and into his hands. Sara held the writhing body clutched in both hands.

His heart filled with sadness and regret as he spoke to the symbiote.

 _“You had the choice between accepting willing hosts and taking them by force,”_ he announced softly to it in fluent Goa’uld. _“You chose to destroy rather than create, and enslaved those who should have remained free. For these crimes, you must be punished.”_

“Thank you, Daniel,” Sara said wetly, blood flecking her lips. She gave the wriggling symbiote up to Lord Hu and backed away from the circles, eyes wide with fear and gratitude.

The Furling placed Osiris' symbiote into a portable tank and waited for the next Goa'uld to queue up for judgement.

Daniel recognized this one, too.

_"Come out, Anat!"_

And the creature obeyed.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack could see how afraid Daniel was. That smile was trembling. Those blue eyes were huge, and he was shaking.

Gooseflesh raised on O'Neill's arms. No mere human being had the power to call a Goa’uld forth from its host. Something else was at work here, something beyond his ken.

He watched the disk hovering beneath Daniel’s feet move with him, the circle above his head somehow casting a shadow on the left half of the man’s body. Wherever he moved, the shadow covered him. 

 _This_ was what the Tejenna had sought so desperately to finish before the Goa’uld came to destroy them.

This was the machine that worked through Daniel Jackson – the chosen Mandanu – to liberate the universe from the Goa’uld threat.

A lump formed in his throat as he watched.

By Daniel’s movements, it was obvious to Jack that he was blind.

He was a tool now, a vessel for something set in motion eons ago.

And Jack was afraid that, when the machine was finished with him, there would be nothing left.

 

* * *

 

 

The crowd was a flickering spectrum of rainbow light. The sight intoxicated Daniel, filled him with unimaginable joy and devastating grief, all at the same time.

If he did this one at a time, it might take weeks.

The disk lifted him up above the crowd where he could see them all, the halo above his head circling slowly. He raised his hands and stretched them out over the crowd.

 _“All of those who have taken unwilling hosts, come forth!”_ he called.

Electricity shot through his body, coming up from the disc beneath him, down from the circle above into his head. The pain was paralyzing, and he felt the energy streaming out through his fingertips. His teeth clenched. His eyes squeezed closed, tears of agony and fear running in rivulets down his cheeks. He could barely breathe, grunting with every shallow exhalation, but he could feel the symbiotes answering his call, thousands of them, all leaving those they had violated.

Sam threw her arms around Jack and cried out as she stared in horror.

He held her, his heart constricting inside his chest as he helplessly watched the brilliant display.

Daniel was incandescent, so bright his body could hardly be seen. Lightning shot out from his palms and his fingertips, striking only those in the crowd who were unwilling hosts, driving the symbiotes from them.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack squinted to see Daniel’s face, grimacing from the agony he was in.

The disk lifted him higher, his body suspended between it and the halo, white light pouring into and out of him.

He understood now. Daniel was the focus for this weapon against the Goa’uld. Only _he_ could guide it.

But Jack could see by the expression on the younger man’s face, by the way his body seized up, that it was _killing_ him. And he was _letting_ it.

“No!” Jack cried. “Oh, God!”

He turned away, burying his face in Sam’s shoulder, unable to watch any longer. He sobbed, certain now that Daniel was going to die, and clutched at her like she was a life preserver.

There was nothing he could do to stop this from happening.

Daniel was sacrificing himself willingly, joyously, expending his own life to free millions of others.

That was the Daniel Jackson he knew and loved, as he had never loved another human being in his life, except for his son.

 _This_ was why Daniel was the Mandanu, and no other.

And even as Jack’s heart was being torn to shreds, he felt a great surge of pride and honor to have been Daniel Jackson’s friend.

 

* * *

 

 

The torture seemed to go on and on endlessly, the machine holding Daniel up in mid-air over the crowd until it was finished with him.

The moment the last host was free, the disc floated him back to the ground.

He went limp between the circles, panting like he’d run a marathon, unable to move even a finger, his body still suspended in the air, arms dangling at his sides. Sweat made his clothes and hair cling to his skin. He heard more splashing as the Goa’uld were gathered up and deposited into tanks the Furlings seem to have produced out of thin air. Former hosts were moving in orderly fashion, taking their turns coming up to deliver the aliens to the Furlings, and then returning to their place in the crowd.

He struggled to breathe, to think over the agony.

“I’m getting you out of there!” Jack rasped, and reached for him.

 _“Don’t!”_ Daniel warned him, but Jack would not be stopped.

As soon as he reached the rim of the circles, the crackle of electricity zapped him and the Colonel drew back instinctively.

“Daniel!” The name was a cry of despair on O’Neill’s lips. “For crying out loud, make it stop!”

 _“No,”_ the Mandanu gasped _. “I have to free them. I have to do this, Jack.”_

“But it’s _killing_ you!” Jack wailed, heedless of the tears rolling across his cheeks. “I don’t want you to die!”

Daniel wished he could see his friend’s face, just one more time. “It’s okay, Jack. I’m not alone. My family is with me, and it’ll be over soon.” He smiled fondly, feeling the outpouring of love that made his agony bearable.

Sam was crying now, tears streaming down her face. “Does it hurt?”

A sound escaped Daniel, part laugh and part sob. “Crucifixion was easy, compared to this,” he shot back in his own voice, and then regretted it instantly at the sound of suffering his reply tore out of her.

“Sorry, Sam. Shouldn’t have said that. Wasn’t thinking.”

He turned his head as a large, indistinct shape moved toward them through the crowd. “Teal’c?”

“I am here, Mandanu,” called a deep baritone voice.

“Teal’c!” Jack turned and leaped up to embrace the Jaffa and pounded him on the back. “You made it! Thank God!”

“Guys, I… think there still something else I’m… unh… supposed to do here,” Daniel groaned, struggling to breathe with the torture streaming through his body. “I don’t have much time left, so I better get to it.”

“You are correct, Mandanu,” Lya assured him.

Daniel studied her as she came to stand beside him. He stared, unable to take his eyes off her, beaming as he verified his discovery. _“_ You’re a plant,” he murmured in wonder, stunned to see the life-force within her that was so different from the animal-energies surrounding him.

Lya smiled and lit up the world. “Yes. And you are an animal.”

His body was stiff with the current surging through it. The machine that imprisoned him kept him upright, floating just above the ground. He was dying, but he had to stay where he was. He had to finish this most important task.

With the power of a thought, Daniel faced the crowd, his body rotating slowly inside the field. There were still some symbiotes embedded in willing hosts, but with his vision as it was, he couldn’t tell Tok’ra from Goa’uld.

He was going to have to touch them to know their hearts, but he couldn’t make contact with them directly. He needed something else, something to help him divine where their loyalties truly lay and bridge the gap between them.

“Teal’c, still got that feather?”

He took a moment to study the Jaffa with his altered vision, and smiled. White light shone in his eyes, with a brilliant heart of turquoise and pale green. “ _Beautiful_ ,” he sighed.

The object Teal’c held out was radiant red, with an eye of black and blue, not at all as Daniel remembered it.

“Now let it go,” Daniel instructed, and the feather stayed suspended between the edges of the circles of light and darkness.

“Stand with me, Teal’c?” he asked.

“It will be my honor, Mandanu.”

Daniel drifted toward the nearest host with Jack, Teal’c and Sam escorting him wherever the Tejennan discs took him.

 _“Touch the feather,”_ he ordered in that unearthly voice, his tone gentle.

“Sure thing, Danny,” said Jacob. The General complied and held it for a moment. “What do you want me to do with it?”

Daniel shook his head. “ _Go stand with your daughter, Jacob.”_

He moved toward the next one and reached out with the feather.

With a cry of pain, the Goa’uld, Baal, fell to his knees at Daniel’s feet.

The lights within him flashed crimson, with darkness in his heart.

The Mandanu regarded the host. _“You will stand with the Goa’uld,”_ he said softly, and moved on to the next one, and the next, dividing up those who were willing hosts into two groups.

Night fell, and the Tejennan moons rose over the planet, silhouetting everyone in silver. Those who had been judged sat down, while those still waiting remained standing.

Long into the night, Daniel floated through the crowd, sorting each according to their hearts.

By sunrise all of the survivors of the battle had been separated and stood facing each other. One group was immense; the other boasted only a few thousand in number. Far from the place where he began, the disks carried him back to the square, his head down, supporters still flanking him steadfastly.

He came up to the dais where Lya, Odin and Lord Hu waited.

“I’m so tired,” Daniel told the three beings. “I’d like to rest now.”

The disk lowered him gently to the ground, just till his feet touched, but it did not release him.

“There is one more judgment to pass,” Odin told him.

“Who?” Daniel asked with a grunt of pain. He was so spent he couldn’t even hold his head up anymore.

“Greetings, Mandanu,” called another voice from behind him.

He turned with great effort.

There were lights. _Lots_ and _lots_ of lights, so bright he turned quickly back and covered his face with his hands. _“Who are you?”_

“It is the Ancients,” Lord Hu rumbled pleasantly. “They have returned to witness the final judgment, and to rejoin the Four Races.”

For a moment, Daniel didn’t move. He couldn’t see a thing other than the red spots burned into his retinas from the light overload. The Ancients were returning.

_The Ancients were returning!_

A slow smile spread over his face. He started to laugh, and the rest of his strength left him as joy took over. He hung suspended in the air, grinning like a fool, and waited for them to say the words.

It was all so simple, really.

He wondered why no one had ever thought of it before.

“Mandanu, what will become of the Goa’uld? What shall their punishment be?” Lya’s voice was gentle and warm.

“Oh, my God! Daniel!”

The sound of that familiar, beloved voice just touched with a hint of the Emerald Isle made him seek her out.

Shannon was a blaze of green and gold, with touches of rose and lavender at the core, and near her heart was a burst of pure white light that could only be one thing – the baby in her arms. His heart soared. And then it crashed and shattered.

“Jack,” he called softly, desperately, looking for the true blue at his side. “You can’t let her watch me die. Please.”

“I can’t leave you, either,” the soft murmur came back from beside him. “The worst is over, isn’t it?”

Daniel smothered a sob and shook his head. _“No. It’s not. Please, Jack. Take care of her for me.”_

“I will. But she stays, and so do I. Let her see you one last time. She can’t touch you anymore. Let her look at you.”

Shannon hurried up, but Jack caught her before she could get close. “Danny love, what’s happening to you?”

He heard her terror, and felt it echo inside him _. “_ Don’t touch me, Shannon. I have to—I have to finish this. Stand with my family, beloved.”

He smiled at them, his body so burned out from the constant pain that he could no longer feel much of it.

“Stand with me, Shannon?”

“I’m here, my love,” she replied shakily. “I’ll be strong for you, I promise.”

Daniel nodded, knowing she would keep her word.

He faced the angry red cloud that he knew were the Goa’uld and those who supported them, Jaffa and hosts alike.

He remembered a mission long ago to Chulak, when he and Sam had found a tank full of Goa’uld babies awaiting implantation. She had reminded him that destroying the young ones would make him no better than the Goa’uld themselves, and he had shot the tank full of holes, killing every one of those little monsters.

He had done it with joy in his heart and righteousness in his mind… just as Kinsey had done when he’d nailed the man he perceived as a false god to a cross in the Colorado back country.

Now, he was faced with exactly the same decision. An enormous tank in the plaza was filled with mature symbiotes he had drawn from their hosts. He was surrounded by people willing and able to dispatch them all to oblivion, as soon as he gave the word.

Daniel closed his eyes and heard the quiet voice, now as familiar as his own.

_Will you have mercy, Daniel? Or will you destroy us all? We deserve it. You, of all people, should know what we do to our hosts. What we will always do, given the opportunity._

A flash of memory that was not his own surged through his mind, of a woman with laughing eyes, holding a baby to her breast. _His_ baby. _His_ love, for all eternity.

Anubis had loved Egeria more than life itself. He had mourned for her for thousands of years, and for the Harseisis child Ra murdered. His grief destroyed everything he touched, except for the one bright spot he could never quite own: Reyenne.

He had loved her, too, in his way. _  
_

Daniel and Anubis had her in common.

His eyes moved to his right, to the glow of his wife and child.

_Egeria and Harsesis. He could almost see them, could still smell the scent of her perfume on the air. And somewhere out in the universe, his gypsy children still lived, waiting for the time when they might be free and learn what it was to have a home._

Shannon and Shaurienne, standing bravely by, watching him die. He could hear her sobbing now as she began to understand what was happening to her husband.

What guarantee did Daniel have that he wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing, had he suffered what Anubis had?

“Whaddya say, Daniel? Shall we send ‘em all to Hell?” Jack prompted him softly.

With great effort, Daniel shook his head. _“No, Jack. We have no right to kill them. They deserve to live, just as we do.”_

“I kinda have a problem with that.”

Jack’s support was steady. He didn’t step away or argue. He simply stood and waited.

Daniel turned to face the Ancients. _“Do you intend to remain with us, to help us learn and grow as the Fifth Race?”_ he asked them.

The Lights answered as one, “We will.”

Turning back to face the tanks and the Goa’uld supporters, Daniel summoned the last of his strength and lifted his chin. _“Then I condemn the Goa’uld to Ninth Space, where you may live in peace and harmony for all time, apart from those you would make your slaves. We will provide all you need to survive. The only hosts you may claim are those who have willingly given themselves to you. Your machines and weapons cannot travel with you, so you will be on your own, to live and die in the natural span of your lives.”_

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd of onlookers, but the Goa’uld remained sullenly silent.

 _“The door to your prison will always be open,”_ he added, and smiled. _“When you learn to celebrate life, to love and laugh, to dance and sing for the pure joy of it; when you learn what it is to play, you will be welcomed to rejoin the rest of us. I hope you find that peace, for your sakes.”_ His smile faded. _“And I hope the souls of all of those who have passed on this judgment day will find peace.”_

He listened for that familiar voice inside him, waited for the ridicule or the rage, but there was only silence.

 _“Good bye,”_ he said softly, to all of them who could hear him.

He raised his hands toward the tank and the people standing nearby it, and envisioned the beautiful, sunlit garden that was the former home of the Ancients. It was light years away, through a doorway powered by a technology he could never understand. The energy necessary to send them there would be tremendous, but he knew it was present, streaming steadily through him, building up for one final discharge.

The agony he had endured already was unimaginable, and he felt certain it was going to get much worse.

He raised his hands and prepared himself for it.

 

* * *

 

Jack’s eyes followed the motion, instinctively understanding what Daniel meant to do.

There would be no prisoner transport across the galaxy on the ships in orbit around the planet. The trip would be instantaneous, all of the massed Goa’uld vanishing at once.

He looked up at the halo above Daniel’s head, and saw the edges of it begin to glow.

Daniel’s palms were upright now as they extended toward the Goa’uld host in invitation, calling them to him as if they were his children.

Jack reached out for Shannon, softly weeping by his side, and pulled her into his arms as she buried her face against his shoulder.

“Don’t look,” he murmured against her auburn hair, his eyes riveted to the man floating up into the air above him.

The image blurred, and let the tears fall.

The Goa’uld and their human contingent wavered as if they stood in a mirage, and then they began to elongate and flow upward into the air. They became an insubstantial cloud of red and black and flowed toward the Mandanu, streaming between his outstretched hands, piercing him through the heart.

A single cry escaped him, and his head fell back. His mouth opened, and a column of blazing energy shot outward, up through the circle above him. The light grew brighter as the aliens passed through his body, and Daniel’s hands dropped limply to his sides.

His eyes were open, staring at nothing. But the corners of his open mouth were pulled slightly upward. Daniel was smiling.

“Goodbye, little brother,” Jack whispered roughly, and closed his eyes.

As the last of the Goa’uld flowed through him, Daniel vanished in a flash of light so powerful it left all who saw it blind for a few hours.

The Goa’uld were gone, and when they knew Daniel wasn’t coming back, those who had turned away led the sightless to the Stargate, and home.

The Tejennan device grew cold and dark, and fell with a clatter to the ground where the Mandanu had been, and now was no more.

* * *

 

 

Jack sat on the chair, cradling the baby in his arms, looking down at her and trying to smile. She looked like her father, he thought, with Daniel’s brown hair and big eyes, though they were green like her mother’s. He glanced over at the bunk where Shannon lay sleeping, catching what rest she could after their return home.

A soft knock on the door of his barracks room made him turn. GeneralHammond stepped in quietly, his face grave. Jack looked away, back into the baby’s smiling face. He didn’t want any more grief. There wasn’t room in his soul for any more of that unwelcome emotion.

“Sir,” he murmured politely.

Hammond’s voice was soft. “Major Davis and Sgt. Siler have returned from Alpha Colony.”

_Logan._

The general spoke too gently. There was uncommon emotion in his eyes. That wasn’t a good sign, and Jack braced himself, slipping into his armor and closing the man out. “Yes, sir.”

“They came under attack at about the same time we did,” Hammond told him. He sighed. “The Asgard ship protecting them was heavily damaged, and though we don’t have an accurate count yet… it appears there were no survivors at the colony.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry, Jack. I know Doctor Logan was special to you.”

“They were all special,” he returned quickly, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. “Every geeky one of ‘em. Thank you, sir.”

Hammond eased quietly back out of the room and left him to his baby-sitting.

Jack thought about what he’d said, and was surprised at how true his last words were. He thought about the roles of the eggheads he so often disrespected, and was stunned at the discovery he made. They were _all_ Daniels, in one way or another; all bleeding-heart liberals who felt for every alien they encountered.

They were the moral compasses of their teams, the heart and soul of Stargate Command. Those academics Jack had found so irritating were the hand of humanity, reaching out blindly, eagerly, into the cosmos on a voyage of understanding, just as the Ancients had intended. This whole project – the greatest single endeavor of the human race, as Daniel had once put it – was _their_ journey. They _got_ it, from the very beginning. And it took Jack O’Neill seven years to finally understand it himself.

People like himself and Carter and Teal’c – they just got to go along for the ride and watch their backs. They got in the way more often than not, and hindered what progress had been made. Still, they stumbled blindly forward like children in the dark, hopeful and excited about what might lay through the next doorway, on the next world, in the eyes and hearts of the next alien race they met.

But now, they were all gone. Daniel, Logan, Winters, Nyan, Ndele and all the others he couldn’t name, whose faces he didn’t even know, all of them were dead. The journey was over for all of them.

Now, Jack had another responsibility to shoulder. He had a family to look after, and as soon as they managed to wrap things up off world, Hammond would get his resignation. He glanced back at the bunk just as Shannon rolled onto her back and stretched. Her eyes were still red-rimmed and swollen from crying.

“Have a good nap?” he asked her.

“Yes, actually. Was she any trouble?”

“She hasn’t made a peep. Does she cry?”

“Not much,” Shannon admitted flatly. “She’s a happy baby.”

The little tyke smiled at him. “Oh, Uncle Jack is so sunk,” he told her. “You own me now, don’t you, Princess?”

Shannon smiled a little. “She probably needs to be changed. If you’ll hand her over—“

“I already took care of that,” Jack assured her. “Changin’ diapers is like riding a bike. You never forget how. The plumbing’s a little different on this one, was all. But we managed.”

Surprised, Shannon just looked at him. “You amaze me, Jack. You’re quite the onion, aren’t you?”

He frowned at her. “ ‘Scuse me?”

“You’re a man of many layers,” she explained. Her smile withered. “Daniel would have gotten that.” She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

She started to cry again, and instantly Jack was beside her, his arm around her shoulders. This bout of tears didn’t last long, and she straightened up, pulling her daughter into her arms. “Her middle name is Hope. Daniel wanted to call her that, and I think I will, too.”

“It’s less of a mouthful than Shauri…rey… See what I mean?”

That got the tiniest little chuckle, which melted away beneath her overwhelming sorrow.

“I want to go home, Jack. Will you take me?”

He petted the long fall of her hair down her back. “Sure I will. But how about you take Hope to the commissary for a snack while I go do a little recon?”

Shannon frowned at him. “Why would you need to do reconnaissance on Earth?”

He cleared his throat nervously. “We got pretty pounded before the Goa’uld high-tailed it outta here, Irish. We… I… Why don’t you let me go check to make sure your house is still there, before we leave the base?”

Her eyes grew round. Her hand covered her mouth. “Oh, God! The cat! What if we’ve lost Daniel’s cat?”

The lump he’d been swallowing down repeatedly for several hours formed again. “I’ll look for Zoe, too. Be back soon.”

It took a little doing to get permission to leave the base, but once he had a couple of MPs attached to his hip per Hammond’s orders, he made it back to the neighborhood in good time. With a sinking heart, he saw that the Jackson home had a death glider parked in the middle of it and was no longer livable without some significant repairs. Military guards were on duty keeping the contents safe and the curious away from the alien ship, but there was no sign of the cat.

Jack went to his own home and found it intact and untouched. He let himself in and started pulling dust covers off the furniture, hoping to make it more presentable for when he brought Shannon home. Just as he was getting ready to leave, he heard a noise at the patio door, and went to look out.

That blue-eyed beast darted into the room, returning momentarily to rub against his ankles before racing upstairs for his bed.

He shook his head and smiled. At least they had the cat. He returned to the base to bring the family home, as he had promised his best friend he would.

 

* * *

 

Sam sat on the stool in her lab with her head in her hands.

The Tejennan machine lay on the counter beside her, cold and dark and still.

She had been unable to figure out how it worked, the technology way beyond anything she could understand. From her vantage point at Daniel’s feet during the judgement process, she could see the appearance of the black hole above him, filling the translucent ring. If the Tejennans had, indeed, figured out how to harness a black hole, the energy would have been limitless once it was focused… but it had to originate _somewhere_.

Black holes didn’t _create_ anything – they sucked it in from other sources.

The answer to that question came from the Furlings.

Lord Hu provided them with a recording of the event, which Sam had declined to watch at first.

Jack played it for General Hammond, who, in turn, showed it to the rest of the personnel at the base.

A sense of mourning descended heavily upon all of them, and after a day of fruitless examination of the Tejennan rings, Sam had decided to look at the recording to see if there was anything she missed, any detail that might have escaped her in the emotional turmoil of the event as it happened.

What she saw surprised her. It humbled her, and made her grieve all over again.

Daniel had been right about needing his team, his family, beside him. It had been more that emotional support he wanted.

Jack, Sam, Teal’c, and Shannon _had been the power source for the machine_.

Their love for Daniel, their closeness to him during that trial of spirit poured out of them and into him, into the machine, giving it the energy it needed to call the aliens forth from their unwilling hosts. The gratitude and awe of those he saved gave him power enough to transport the Goa’uld across the universe to another world, and beyond.

It was all there in the holographic record, the bodies of SG-1 glowing with white light, pulled upward into the halo and down into Daniel.

The massed crowd of the judged radiated with an even brighter glow after the arrival of the Ancients, their energy drawn into that black hole until Daniel disappeared in a blinding flash.

And every time she watched it, grief cut into her more deeply, until she thought she could not feel any more pain. Yet with every viewing, the agony grew.

Daniel was _gone_. He was never coming back.

 And the ones who meant the most to him had killed him… _with their love_.

She sighed and wiped at the tears streaming down her face.

With one hand, she touched the ring, cool and smooth as glass. Maybe if she saw the recording again, something would click and she’d have another direction to go, something else to check. But she was so ready to give up, to just pass it on to another researcher who could be more objective, who might actually make some progress.

She picked up the Furling recorder and turned it on.

“Sam?”

Carter turned around at the familiar voice.

Logan stood in the doorway of the lab, flanked by Satterfield and Hailey.

A flood of relief surged through Sam, and she leaped from her seat and went to catch the women up in a tearful embrace.

“We thought you were dead!” Sam sobbed. “The Alpha Colony… It was wiped out. We checked—“

“I was mad at Jack for kicking me off world,” Logan admitted guiltily. “Sandy and Hana didn’t want me going off by myself, so we went on bivouac for a few days, till I cooled off. We were so far away when the attack came, we couldn’t get back fast enough to help.”

“Or to die with everybody else,” Hailey murmured softly.

Hana’s lower lip quivered as she nodded in agreement, fresh tears streaking down her face.

“You survived!” Sam gushed. “You made it. Thank God.”

The voice of inhuman authority rang out from the countertop behind her, and every head turned.

Sam stepped back, considering turning it off for a moment, sparing them the truth. Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, starting the recording over again from the beginning.

“You gals need to see this,” she whispered brokenly. “We don’t have to worry about the Goa’uld anymore.”

She watched for a moment, then closed her eyes and listened to the rest of it. The mechanical hum was interspersed with the crackle of lightning, with screams, and the voices of those who spoke, replaying with painful clarity exactly what was said. She heard the _whoosh_ of the final departure and the crystal clang of the machine as it fell to the ground, its purpose fulfilled.

No one spoke. No one needed to. Warm arms encircled her as the trio added their grief to hers, making it lighter and heavier all at the same time.

Hailey and Satterfield wandered off after a little while, leaving Sam and Logan alone.

“Have you seen the Colonel yet?” Carter asked, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her lab coat.

Logan shook her head. “I’m sure word’s gotten to him, Sam.”

“I’m not. He left to get Shannon settled, and was going to go back to Tejenna to organize the clean-up. If he hasn’t left yet…”

“Yeah.” Logan hugged her again, and headed for the control room to inquire whether Colonel O’Neill had gone off world, or was elsewhere on the base.

And Samantha Carter sat in her lab, staring at that alien machine, and wondering how she would ever be all right again.

A knock sounded on her door.

She glanced up at Adam as he stood waiting, his eyes dark and full of grief.

“I was hoping you’d come to see me when you got back,” he told her, moving slowly into the room. “But you didn’t.”

She looked away, down at that glassy ring on the countertop. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t ready yet,” she stammered. “Still not.”

He stole up beside her and placed his fingertips on her forearm, just the slightest contact, not pushing but letting her know he was there.

“I know you need space,” he murmured warmly, “but I had to see you, to look in your eyes, Samantha.”

She met his worried gaze. A sob broke free, and she went for him, her arms folding around his neck as the flood began. “Oh, God, Adam! It was horrible. It was beautiful. Daniel…”

He held onto her tightly. “I know. I saw the recording, honey. He was an amazing man.”

A cry of soul-deep anguish ripped out of her, and her knees gave way. Adam’s strong grip carried her down to the floor and he cradled her in his lap as she wept. He remained silent, just holding her. Then she felt his tears soaking through her lab coat and uniform, felt his body shaking as he mourned with her.

Something burned inside her, a resolve that put steel back into her. Angrily, she pushed away from him, staring into his tear-stained face. “I want to have a baby, Adam,” she growled. “And I want to name it Daniel. For him. For what he was to all of us.”

“Or Danielle,” he agreed. “Yes. But you have to marry me first.”

She nodded, fast and hard, and struggled to her feet. “We’ll get permission for both at once. I’m due some time off. We can get started right away.”

He sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve, following her out of the lab with her hand clutched tightly in his. “Samantha…”

She stopped walking and looked up at him, her mind already filled with purpose.

“I should tell you… the lawsuits have been dropped.”

That startled her. There had been no way out for Adam without risking compromising the security of the SGC. “How…”

“I guess you didn’t see the President’s address a couple of hours ago,” he said with a warm smile.

“No, I’ve been in my lab since I got back.”

“There’s an explanation for my miraculous recovery now,” he told her. “Alien technology. We’re public.”

Her hand stole up to her mouth, covering it in surprise. Then acceptance set in. “Well, yeah. I guess after the attack, they’d kind of have to admit to something.”

His arm swept around her shoulders. “ _Wormhole Extreme!_ has suddenly become a very popular show. Especially due to the fact that Colonel O’Neill was advisor for a time.”

That ridiculous television program might well have saved Adam’s butt, she mused privately with a shake of her head. “Who’d have thought that fiasco could be so useful?”

“And Samantha… How would you feel about there being two Major Carters on the base?”

“Huh?”

She continued down the hall toward General Hammond’s office as Adam Romani explained.

 

* * *

 

Jack felt numb as he stepped into the embarkation room. Head down, he checked the distribution of weight in his vest and shifted it, his eyes on his hands as they worked. The sound of the Stargate starting to spin up was as familiar as breathing, and he heard the first chevron jolt into place.

He was tired, but so wide-awake he thought he might never sleep again. He’d had a shower and changed his BDUs, which helped his mood a little. At least he was clean.

When he finished rearranging himself, he lifted his head and froze.

For a moment he thought he was hallucinating. He looked down at his hands and they were steady, as always. Then he looked back up again and the apparition was still there.

He didn’t say anything, just stared.

“Jack,” said Logan softly.

He turned away and moved to the foot of the ramp, waiting for the ‘gate to engage. It was best to ignore such things when he was still so emotionally raw. It would go away, in time.

“I thought you meant what you said before I left for Alpha Colony,” she told him, moving closer.

But she wasn’t really there. It was just wishful thinking, and he knew it. Everybody had things they wanted to say, final words of parting, to people they lost forever.

He kept his eyes aimed at the circling ‘gate, twirling like the spindle on a safe, registering the combination for secrets of interstellar travel.

The soldiers who stood guard in the’ gate room were well back from the ramp, and couldn’t hear him when he spoke softly to himself.

“I should have told Logan I loved her, at least once.” He frowned. “Should have written it down in that damn notebook, so she’d know.”

“I knew, Jack,” the ghost told him. She moved closer, standing right at his elbow. “I love you, too.”

She touched his arm.

He rocketed backward, startled to find her really there, a stream of curses involuntarily pouring out his mouth. He stared at her. He reached forward and gave her a little push, just to assure himself that she was solid.

Logan grinned and wobbled a little as she rocked back on her heels slightly. “Hey, I’m not that big a pushover, O’Neill,” she teased.

Jack launched himself at her, wrapping her up in his arms and squeezing until she yelped and pushed him back.

“Your ordnance was poking me,” she explained with a soft chuckle.

“That wasn’t my ordnance,” he quipped, a smile spreading from ear to ear. “I’m just happy to see ya.”

He moved his P-90 out of the way and embraced her again, this time giving her room to breathe. In her ear, where only she could hear him, he confessed, “I thought I was seeing things, baby. Hammond said you were dead.”

“I’m here, Jack. Hailey and Satterfield made it, too.”

He tightened his grip a little, sliding his hands over her back and rocking her gently. “Thank God.”

“Yeah. For a lot of things.” She swallowed audibly and moved back a little until she could see his face. There were tears in her eyes. “I saw what happened. Daniel was magnificent.”

Jack nodded, his throat closing up completely, his heart on fire again with remembered grief.

The last chevron locked into place and the blast of water ballooned outward, settling into placid ripples as the event horizon stabilized, drawing their attention back to things needing to be done.

Logan stepped away from him, her expression solemn, her eyes speaking volumes.

“I’ll be waiting when you get back,” she promised.

He touched her face gently, his fingertips stroking the soft skin of her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her, just the barest brush of his lips against hers, before he drew away. They eyed each other, speaking without words.

She jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him full throttle.

He staggered backward under the passionate assault, and a chorus of cheers and applause rose up from the ‘gate room troops and the technicians in the control room above. Jack was laughing as she released him, and he turned around with his best stern face, dropping the humor instantly.

“As you were, people,” he rasped. The disciplinarian vanished when he glanced back at her wicked grin. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” he asked her.

“You bet your sweet ass, O’Neill,” she shot back. “Now, stop lollygagging and get to work.”

She offered him a formal salute.

He waved her off and headed through the Stargate alone, ready to pick up the pieces of his world and make a clean start.

_Logan was alive._

There was still hope in the world after all… but nothing could salve the pain of the losses they were all feeling.

Especially the hole in his heart where Daniel had once been.

 

* * *

 

 

It took two days to bring all the bodies home through the Stargate. Jack supervised the transport personally, keeping the wormhole open in cycles, starting it up again just as it inactivated. After that, there were identifications to be made, funerals to arrange, relatives to contact. The chaos in the wake of the attack on Earth was significant, but the important stuff was still getting done. Gradually the damage was being cleared away and life was falling back into a normal pattern.

Shannon had moved in temporarily with Sam – who had become eaten up with the whole aunty business – which freed up Jack to take care of the clean-up. But no matter what he did, no matter how stressful or demanding the work was, always in the back of his mind was the vision of that lightning storm flowing through a frail human body, one that had suffered more than anyone was ever meant to survive.

Daniel had been smiling when he died, and that image stuck with Jack. It ate at him. He worked without sleeping or eating, trying to stay busy so he wouldn’t think about it, but always, _always_ he could see that face, blessing the universe with an unparalleled, selfless gift of freedom.

O’Neill stood on the Tejennan world and dialed home the last time personally, checking out the landscape to make sure they had everything, that nothing important had been left behind. The sight burned in his mind as he stepped up to the ramp, but he couldn’t go into the wormhole.

His feet wouldn’t move.

“You coming, Colonel?” asked one of the fresh-faced lieutenants carrying one of the stretchers.

“In a minute,” he said softly. “Be there in a minute.” He watched the troops go through the ‘gate and the water vaporize with the event horizon as it destabilized.

He stared at the DHD.

His ordnance felt heavy slung across his shoulder, reminding him of its purpose as it lay dormant on its carry strap.

Gritting his teeth, he laid his hand on the constellation key shaped like a running horse.

That one wasn’t on the address for Earth, but for another planet, far, far away.

He dialed the address from memory, and stepped out of the bright Tejennan day into rainbow-spangled Siraketan darkness.

The Quonset huts the USAF teams left behind had residents now. A tribe of nomadic Siraketans had discovered them and moved in, most likely ignorant of the place’s history.

Memories of Daniel in the place haunted him as he headed for the temple, waving to the natives who greeted the activation of the Stargate in typical friendly fashion before returning to their beds for what remained of the night.

Jack wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing there. He knew he could open the door to Ninth Space alone, but he couldn’t take his gun, and that was the only reason he’d want to pay those snakes a visit – just to blow ‘em all away.

Something compelled him to come, and once his curiosity was satisfied, he’d dial home and most likely retire immediately afterward.

He was done.

Without Daniel, he had no interest in doing this anymore.

Jack wandered around in the dark temple for a couple of hours, making his way by flashlight to the Storehouse, still standing open. He glanced at the design on the floor but made sure he didn’t step on it, in case his mere angry presence might open the door and send him to the new Goa’uld homeland.

He was at war with himself, desperately wanting to kill them all for what they had cost him, yet never wanting to lay eyes on them again.

 _Somebody could wander in there and be accidentally transported to Ninth Space,_ he told himself. _Can’t have that, an innocent traveling to Hell._

But he didn’t know how to close those damned doors to the Storehouse, either.

He remembered the inscriptions Daniel had jotted down in the journal so long ago. His gaze fell on the chevron incised on the floor, and understood. Focusing on the hatred in his heart, he backed toward the opening and took aim at the icon for ‘play.’ He fired at it, and the response was instantaneous. The doors moved quickly and he barely had time to get back through them before they eased shut.

It had taken months of study for Daniel to figure out how to open those doors, and he was as brilliant as they came. Hopefully, any other explorers might take a long time, as well, but Jack had an even better idea.

It involved a lot of C-4 and the weight of that mountain falling in on itself, and as soon as he got back to Earth, he’d request that the entire temple complex be destroyed, sealing the Goa’uld in there forever. Even that wouldn’t be punishment enough for what they’d done, but he couldn’t do any more than that.

Jack’s stomach was tied in knots and his hands were shaking by the time he emerged outside again.

The aurora was beginning to fade as dawn colored the sky, and he picked his way carefully down the slope toward the village.

Standing at a distance, he watched the Siraketans just beginning to stir, getting a start on their day.

A trumpeting noise sounded in the woods not far away, and men dashed out of the huts and tents with weapons at hand, responding to the approaching danger.

A handful of women came out with them, watching the hunters answer the call. One of them spied the interloper and marched toward Jack purposefully. She was an older woman, her leathery face darkened from a lifetime in the sun, wrinkles liberally framing the smile she flashed him as she neared.

“Come,” the woman said in heavily accented English. Her gnarled hands gestured for Jack to go with her.

“Sure. What the hey,” Jack mumbled, wondering what errand the old lady needed help accomplishing, and followed her down to the biggest of the Quonset huts, the one his team had stayed in the second time they came to Siraket.

There were no lamps or other lights inside the hut, all the generators having been taken when the site was abandoned by the Tau’ri. Only the faint traces of growing morning light filtered in the open doorway. The military cots were still there, albeit rusty now after the rainy season, and smelling of mildew. People were stretched out on them anyway, their bodies covered in furs or blankets against the night chill.

“Come,” the old woman called, and made her way to the cot farthest from the door, way in the back of the long building.

She gestured down to the bunk, drawing Jack’s gaze with her hands.

A fine, dark red cloth dangled off one corner of the cot, topped by a thick, shaggy hide. Bare feet stuck out from beneath the pelts – a man’s feet. Big ones. There were ugly scars on both soles.

The old woman peeled back the blankets.

Jack gave a yelp and stumbled backward, unable to believe his eyes.

“Daniel!” he cried. Instantly he was on his knees beside the cot, pulling at those shoulders, turning the body over onto his back. He still wore the robe of the Mandanu, but his clothes – what there was of them – were charred and brittle and smelled of smoke. He called again, but Daniel was apparently unconscious, and, from what Jack could see in the dimness, not in very good shape.

Heart pounding, he thanked the woman as best he could while he scooped Daniel up in his arms and carried him as fast as he could go to the Stargate. He laid his friend gently on the ground long enough to dial home, hurriedly punched in the SG-1 ID code, and squatted to pick Daniel up again while the ‘gate spun up.

He paused for a moment, just holding Daniel in his arms, offering a prayer of thanks for the miracle.

Jack couldn’t see through the tears as he mounted the ramp, but he didn’t care.

He was bringing Daniel Jackson _home_ , and pride be damned!

“Nobody gets left behind,” he growled, tightening his grip. “I promised you that, Danny! But you gotta start givin’ better directions where to find you. I almost didn’t get the message.”

He planted a kiss on the man’s smoky cheek as he stepped into the watery surface.

Bedlam broke out when he stumbled through on the other side. A medical team came on the run, with Frasier herself looking the missing man over and shouting orders left and right as they hurried down the corridor to the infirmary, with half the base on her heels.

Jack pushed into the Isolation room past a couple of frazzled nurses, making sure he stayed out of the way, but where he could see and hear everything going on in there.

“Dehydration…”

“…severe electrical burns…”

“…coma…”  
His heart sank. Maybe Daniel really _was_ gone, and it was just taking his body a little longer to die.

He shook his head. _Something_ had made him go to Siraket. Without that little intuition, he’d have gone straight back to Earth and Daniel would have died there… _without his family_.

“Nobody gets left behind,” he murmured again. “ _Especially_ not Daniel.”

He watched as the robe was pulled off and carefully laid aside. Jack picked it up and held it close, neatly folding it and draping it over an arm.

Daniel’s clothes were cut away and his injuries treated. An IV was plugged into a vein in his right arm, and the nursing staff took great care in cleaning him up and dressing him in a hospital gown, even giving him a shave and combing his hair.

When they were finished, Janet eyed Jack and motioned him over.

“He doesn’t look too good, Jack,” she admitted gently, using his first name in a rare address of affection. She had tears in her eyes.

“I heard,” he murmured. “But he’s home now, where he belongs.”

She nodded. “We’ll keep him comfortable and rehydrate him, but for now, that’s all we can do. The rest is up to him. If he’s even still in there.”

Jack nodded. “Oh, he’s _in_ there, all right.” He was certain of that now. “He made a long distance call for me to come pick him up.”

O’Neill grabbed a stool and put it next to the bed, reaching over the rail to lay his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “He’s too damn stubborn to die, Janet. He’s fighting his way back to us. And he’s gonna make it, because we’re waiting for him, right where we promised we’d be.”

He sighed and glanced at his friend’s burned hands now wrapped in gauze. “Would you get the word to Sam and –“

Teal’c strode in the door, his dark eyes glowing as they lit on the man in the bed.

The Jaffa was smiling from ear to ear. “I knew Daniel Jackson was back!” the Jaffa exclaimed. “I felt his return, Colonel O’Neill. I kept dreaming he was calling to me.”

“Me, too,” Sam cheered as she ran through the door. “I heard the news in the lab.” She bent over the bed, beaming, and kissed the unconscious man on the forehead.

“Somebody oughtta call his wife,” Jack observed. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“I’ll go pick her up,” Sam volunteered, kissed Daniel again and then dashed out the door.

Teal’c moved up beside the bed. His hand lifted from his side and laid it gently on Daniel’s forehead. “Was he not amazing, O’Neill?”

Jack smiled. “Yeah. He was _. I_ couldn’t have done it.”

“Nor could I. Such sacrifice speaks eloquently of his great heart.”

With a sigh, Jack rubbed the back of his fingers against Daniel’s cheek. “He may not make it, you know.”

“He _will_ ,” Teal’c stated authoritatively. “For he is home, and now he has our strength to call upon.”

Jack nodded. He closed his eyes and pretended Teal’c was right. He imagined his energy flowing into Daniel through his hand, and concentrated on that for a long time. At some point, he must have fallen asleep, exhausted as he was from the constant work over the last few days. He’d been reluctant to try for sleep, hadn’t bothered eating, because he ‘d been so upset over what had happened after the battle.

He started awake when a soft, steady beeping in the background became a monotonal hum. Jack’s head whipped around to regard the heart monitor that had just sounded a flatline. He leaped off the stool and backed away, his eyes instantly finding the nurses. One got on the phone to page Doctor Frasier; the other rushed to the bed and began to do CPR.

Frasier dashed into the room seconds later, calling out for medications and procedures to begin before she even made it to the bedside.

Jack was shaking, holding his breath as he watched them work on the unconscious man, but the heart monitor continued to sound the same warning tone. He counted off the minutes, aware of tiny things like the beads of sweat forming on Janet’s forehead, the way her hands trembled as she intubated Daniel to help him breathe. A crash cart was wheeled in and she applied the metal pads to her patient’s chest, shocking him to get his heart started again.

Over and over she tried it.

Twenty minutes passed.

Then twenty-two.

One of the nurses gently, softly called her name.

Jack’s interior strength began to crumble. He recognized what that address was – a plea for her to stop trying to revive a dead man. It was useless, and everyone in the room knew it, but Frasier was too stubborn to quit. He could see the tears coursing down her face, heard her snarl at the nurse to keep working, and her orders were instantly obeyed.

The sound of ring transporters appearing made Jack look toward the open space near the bed in the Isolation room. When they left, two small Asgard beings and a tiny, elfin woman with straw-like hair looked back at them… and then at the struggle going on a few feet away.

The sound did not distract Janet from her mission. She ignored everything but the life she was trying so desperately to save.

Jack stepped up to her and took her by the elbow.

“Janet,” he said softly, trying to break her concentration and get her to look at him.

“I’m not _quitting_!” she sobbed, and shook him off.

He gripped her arm harder, pulling her slightly away. “Doctor Frasier.” His tone was more insistent. “Stop.”

He pulled her away and cast a glance at the three aliens, drawing Janet’s attention there. He felt her wilt with relief in his grip. “Can you folks help Daniel?”

Lya smiled and offered a formal bow. “We would be honored to help the Mandanu.”

“As would I,” said another voice, coming from the doorway.

All heads turned to see the tall white Furling duck under the door and take up a position beside the bed.

Janet stared at him. “Where’d _you_ come from?” she demanded.

“From my homeworld of Sha’r, Doctor,” Lord Hu explained patiently. The great dark star-spangled eyes turned to regard the man on the bed. “This was an unexpected surprise. We thought the Mandanu was gone.”

“Daniel’s a pretty tough cookie,” Jack observed solemnly. “He’s been killed more times than I can count, but he keeps comin’ back for more.” He swallowed hard as he regarded the utter stillness of his friend. “Only this time, I’m not so sure.”

The Furling nodded. “We owe him a great debt. His courage and wisdom have made him a legend.” The aliens stood two on each side of the bed and stretched their hands over him to begin the resurrection ritual.

“Just don’t tell _him_ that,” Jack advised, hope swelling in his heart. “He doesn’t like the spotlight. Unless he’s holding court over a bunch of geeks.”

“Humility is an excellent character trait,” Teal’c observed. He stood at parade rest just behind the Colonel, watching with confidence etched into his features as the aliens began to work.

Minutes passed. The monitor beeped, switching to a regular rhythm. The hands raised above the bed lowered to touch Daniel’s body fondly, and then the visitors backed away.

Janet Frasier stepped up to the head of the bed and smiled into those blue eyes as they opened, obviously very confused. “We’re going to take that tube out now, Daniel. Cough on three. One… two…”

Daniel coughed and gagged as she pulled on the tube. Then he took a deep breath and let it slowly out. All was right with the world, at last.

Jack O’Neill whooped with joy. “Welcome home, Daniel,” Jack said, keeping his voice soft as he moved into Daniel’s line of sight at the same moment as Teal’c. “We missed ya.”

“Where did I go?” His voice was little more than a croak.

“You don’t remember?” Jack scowled at Lord Hu. “You didn’t mess with his memory, did you?”

The Furling smiled, revealing beautifully white, sharply pointed carnivore’s teeth. “I could have, but I did not.”

Daniel groaned and stretched in the bed. “Jeez, I feel like I’ve been asleep for weeks. Last thing I remember, I went nova. What happened after that?”

Jack grinned and shrugged. “Hell if I know! I found you on Siraket a couple hours ago. You’ve been gone three days.”

“Siraket? What was I doing there?” He went to put a hand to his head, saw the bandages and put it back down with a sigh.

“Let me just take those off,” Janet offered, and peered under the gauze just to make sure the aliens had healed _everything_ before she went to work with her scissors.

“Best I could tell, some of the natives found you in a coma. I think they were kinda happy to have you off their hands.” He gestured to the visitors. “These guys just stopped by to bring you back to life, after you died on us _again_. You gotta stop doin’ that, Daniel. You’re wearin’ folks out.”

Heavy brows drew down over Daniel’s eyes in confusion. His mouth pouted. “Oh. Okay.” He thanked the aliens for saving him again.

Lord Hu chuckled. “You are an entertaining man, Mandanu.”

“Just Daniel.”

“It will be my honor, Daniel,” Hu assured him. “But now, I must return to my people. We have a civilization to reestablish, after our long journey.”

“Will you come back? I’d really like to have some long talks with you.” Daniel sat up under the covers, looking quite himself, even his voice returning to its normal smooth tone.

“I will,” Hu promised. “My family and I will stay at your house, which others of us are even now repairing.”

“Ahhh… oh… okay,” Daniel stuttered, surprised by the way the Furling had invited himself over. “Sure. That would be… um… great.”

The Furling bowed and vanished.

“How does he _do_ that?” Jack asked the other aliens.

“We all have this capability,” Lya assured him. “We have shared much knowledge with each other, over the eons. As we will also share with you, once you have matured enough to be wise in using them.”

“That healing thing you do would come in really handy,” Doctor Frasier suggested.

Lya smiled maternally up at her, which was an answer in itself. “What heals can also _kill_ , depending on how the energy is directed,” she explained patiently. “We will keep our knowledge safe, until you are ready to use it. But we will keep your request in mind, Doctor.”

The trio of aliens stepped back, and after a moment, the transport rings came to retrieve them.

Sam burst in the door, holding the baby in her arms as Shannon raced past her, throwing her arms around her husband and kissing him all over his face.

“Hey, hold on, there,” Daniel advised happily. “I was just—well, never mind. Just take it easy, okay? I’m kinda tender in places.”

“Yes!” Shannon squeaked, drawing away from him and wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh, Danny love! You’re alive!”

Sam squeezed close and handed the baby to him. “Can you hold her?”

Daniel’s eyes went to that tiny face, and he beamed. “I could move mountains,” he breathed. “For this, I would… Oh, Shannon. She’s _beautiful_.”

He cradled the infant against his chest, nestling her up beneath his chin. He sniffed her neck and kissed Hope’s soft baby cheek. “Hi, Hope. I’m your daddy.”

The baby cooed and swatted at his face with her tiny hand.

Daniel had tears in his eyes as he reached for his wife. For a moment he held her close, but a glance at Sam drew her into the hug.

Teal’c moved up on the other side of the bed and embraced them all with his long, muscular arms… and then he giggled.

Janet’s mouth fell open. Everyone, including the nurses, joined in the laughter.

Jack stood back and grinned at them. “My family,” he said softly, and shook his head. But there was someone missing, and he needed to talk to her.

He stood at the foot of the bed and touched Daniel’s toes. “So what are you gonna do now, Daniel?”

The other man sniffed as his family moved back a little to give him room. “I’m going to go home and make love to my wife,” he said with eyes only for Shannon. He wiped his cheeks with his free hand, and looked down at the bundle in his arms. “And I’m going to get to know my daughter.”

His eyes went to Jack’s, and stayed there, searching for understanding. “I probably won’t be in to work for a while. Maybe a long time. But I _will_ be back, I promise.”

“I could use some time off, myself,” Jack admitted. “There’s this biker chick I wanna court.” He shook his head. “Maybe I’ll retire. What would you think about that?”

“Would you come back when I’m ready to take up the job again?”

“Is that your way of saying you need me, Daniel?” Jack grinned at him.

“Yeah. I need you, Jack.” His eyes went to each of his teammates in turn. “And I need you, Teal’c, and you, Sam. Not just for the job, but for _me_.”

His eyes lingered on his wife’s face. “Is that okay with you?”

She was smiling. “They’re family, love. Of course I don’t mind. They’ve kinda grown on me, too.”

“Like a tumor,” Jack added. He grabbed at Sam’s left hand and held it up for Daniel to see. “And look at the rock Carter got from Romani.”

Daniel glanced down at her left hand. “So does this mean you’re going to be Major Romani soon?”

“I’m keeping the Carter,” she grinned back. “Actually, Adam wants to take _my_ family name, since he doesn’t really have one. How’s _that_ for a switch?”

“Very modern. I approve. Not that you needed it, mind you.”

Sam chuckled softly. “Teal’c has an announcement, too.”

The Jaffa smiled softly. “Daniel Jackson, your President has acknowledged the Stargate program to the world. He has explained the alien attack, and thanked those alien races who gave the Tau’ri aid.”

“He did?”

“Via a news broadcast late in the day after the battle.”

“He didn’t exactly have a choice,” Jack explained with a shrug. “There were death gliders all over the place. Including one in your living room.”

Daniel’s face went slack with horror. “My house…?”

“I believe Lord Hu said his people were repairing it for you,” Teal’c reminded him.

“Go on. Tell him the rest,” Sam insisted gaily, bouncing on her toes.

Daniel met the Jaffa’s dark eyes and waited.

“My family and I have been extended an official invitation from your President to make our home here, among our friends. I have accepted, and Drey’ac agrees.”

“You’re not… you’re not going back to Chulak?” Daniel asked softly. “Won’t your people need you to help them rebuild?”

“My people will survive without me,” Teal’c assured him gently. “My place is here. With my family. All of them.”

He touched Daniel’s hair fondly with a light caress. “And I am going to become a gardener.”

Tears filled those blue eyes, and Daniel started to cry.

Jack felt his armor slipping, and then suddenly it was gone. He smiled as his eyes filled and let the tears run down his cheeks freely.

It felt great.

He felt weightless.

_He was free._

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel hadn’t felt right about having sex with Shannon in Sam’s house, so they decided to wait for their own home to be repaired. That had only taken two days, and after the Furlings left, they re-christened their bed, and then stayed up very late talking.

“I’ve been remembering flashes of things,” he told her. “At the end, it was kind of like being sucked into a wind tunnel. I just got carried along with the energy flow, but when I hit the doorway to Ninth Space, it was like a cork going into a bottle. Like I wasn’t supposed to go back there. I wasn’t dead. Just a universe away from everyone I knew.”

She nodded. Her eyes were huge and dark with wonder. “But Jack knew. He found you, and brought you home.”

Daniel smiled. “Yeah. We have this weird connection, Jack and me.” He wouldn’t tell her that he had, indeed, died when he got back to the base. That was a detail she really didn’t need to know.

He had fallen silent then, and let her sleep.

It was sometime near dawn that he realized the lights had been out since Shannon had first put Hope to bed, but he’d been able to see perfectly well in the darkened room. He wondered at first if the Tejennan machine had affected his eyes in some permanent fashion, changing his vision so that he could see in the dark as well as in the daylight.

But then he noticed that the light moved with him, and took a closer look at his hands and his body, now half covered by pajamas.

His skin seemed to be putting off light, and to confirm that, he went into the bathroom, leaving the light switch off, and checked the mirror. He stared at his reflection, and sure enough, he was glowing.

He’d have to discuss that with Doctor Frasier and see if it was something that could be fixed. It wouldn’t do for SG-1 to go on future missions and him to stand out in the darkness like a beacon.

He padded into the nursery and noticed that she was glowing, too. Returning to the bedroom, he saw light coming from the bed and knew Shannon was the source of that. They were all radiant beings, inexplicably incandescent in the darkness of the night.

Daniel liked that idea.

Curious and a little concerned, he put on a robe and slippers and strolled outside into the pre-dawn grayness. He locked up the house as a precaution and jogged through the trees that separated his big back yard from Jack’s.

A familiar shape moved through the glassed-in living room toward the kitchen, and Daniel knocked on the patio door.

Jack held a kitchen towel up in front of himself as he peered out the back glass, and went to flip on the lights. “Daniel, what the hell are you doing here at this hour?”

Daniel avoided the obvious remarks about Jack’s nudity, suspecting that Logan was upstairs in his bed and that they had just finished getting reacquainted themselves. Instead, he regarded his CO and friend.

Jack was glowing, too.

“I’m here to ask what may well appear to be a silly question,” Daniel admitted. “Am I glowing?”

O’Neill stared at him for a moment. “You mean, like the Smurf was after you plugged her in on Siraket?”

“Exactly. I can see myself, my wife, my daughter in total darkness. I can even see you.”

“So, maybe I need a tan,” Jack quipped. “But no, you’re not glowing. You look just like you always do.”

Daniel nodded, feeling only slightly relieved. “Then it’s got to be my eyes. They’re different now.”

“They’ve always been different. Your pupils are twice the size of anybody else’s. You look like you’re on drugs all the time.”

“Goes along with the good night vision, I guess,” Daniel told him with a shrug. “I’ll have Doctor Frasier check me out tomorrow. Morning, Jack.” He started to turn away.

“Daniel.”

“Hmmm?”

“Things are gonna be good now,” Jack assured him, a note of gentleness in his voice. “It’s just something I know.”

Daniel pondered that statement. He looked up at his radiant friend and smiled. “Ever been tested for ESP, Jack? Because I’ve noticed you have quite a track record for being right about things like that.”

Jack looked distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s a family thing,” he admitted softly. “My grandfather had it, too. But don’t tell anybody. Okay?”

The younger man smiled. “That’s a promise. See ya.”

He turned to return home, feeling better about not being a human nightlight, and as he walked through the trees, he let his mind wander.

Daniel listened to the crickets chirping, feeling the cool morning air against his skin, seeping through his robe and pajamas.

It was a beautiful world, he thought, one of many throughout the universe. And now, for a little while, he had helped make it safe.

That was the best job of all. He could be happy with that. Daniel started to hum, singing to himself as he ambled home to his family.

He thought about Catherine Langford and the journey she had set him on so long ago. But it hadn’t really begun with her, or with him. It had begun with the Goa’uld and their monstrous egos, taking what they wanted and destroying those who got in their way.

Their end had been set in motion when they walked through the Stargate eons ago to an alien world, and decided to become gods at the expense of those who wished to be their friends.

The Tejennans were both the beginning and the end, the Alpha and Omega of the Goa’uld rule.

He wished they could have seen their master work in use.

But in a way, they had.

Through the eyes of Daniel Jackson.

And through him, they would see the birth of a new universe, filled with peace and promise, as the Fifth Race earned their place beside the wise ones who had watched over them all.

 

* * *

 

 

  **Epilogue**

 

Senator Kinsey sat down in the chair with a heavy sigh, and picked up the telephone, glaring through the glass at his visitor.

“What do you want, O’Neill? I’m missing my breakfast.”

Jack tried very hard not to smile. “Just came by to watch the news with you, Kinsey. Had the warden make special arrangements to bring a TV in for this. The President’s making a special address from the UN today.”

“I heard,” Kinsey groused. “Some new holiday being enacted. Whoopee.”

The grin slid right across Jack’s mouth and stayed there. “That’s right. The world’s first truly international holiday. Let’s listen to the address, shall we?”

He turned on the set and angled his chair around so he could see both the screen and the senator’s face. The President stood on a podium in New York City on the steps of the United Nations building, and after the pomp and circumstance were over, the dignified man spoke into the microphone.

Jack knew this speech was being broadcast all over the world via satellite and chose to be there in the prison rather than at home with his team when the announcement was made.

He wanted to see the reaction with his own eyes, rather than just imagine it.

_“Ladies and gentlemen of planet Earth, we come together today to enact the first world day of celebration. We have all come to realize that the human race is no longer alone in the universe, and this knowledge has led to a new focus in world politics. The nations of Earth are now focused outward, rather than inward. Longstanding tensions have eased, and we have peace._

_“That is, in itself, a miracle.”  
_

Jack leaned back in his chair and gave the man on the other side of the safety glass a sidelong glance. “Don’t you wish you were still out there, getting credit for this yourself?” He chuckled.

_“Beyond that, we, the people of Earth, owe a debt to the teams of brave men and women who put their lives on the line to keep this world safe from those who would do us harm. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting some of them, and offering up my personal thanks for the dangerous jobs they have done, and are still doing.”  
_

“Here it comes,” Jack sing-songed. _  
_

_“Of these few hundred dedicated human beings, one stands out in my mind as having made great sacrifices at astounding personal cost. For the contribution he has made to our world, I wanted to give him a medal, to offer public acclaim, so that the people of Earth might recognize him for the gift he has given us, but he refused. He asked to remain anonymous, and that his acts of heroism and bravery never be recognized by those he saved, because for him, he wasn’t doing anything extraordinary. He was just doing his job.”_

O’Neill smiled, watching the sour look on Kinsey’s face set into stone. “Sounds like a true hero, doesn’t he?”

There was a sprinkling of applause on the TV as Jack kept his gaze on Kinsey’s ugly mug.

 _“Let me tell you a little something about this man,”_ the President went on. _“He’s a father, and wants his kids to grow up thinking their dad is just like everybody else’s dad. He wants to be a hero in their eyes just because he’s Daddy, and I applaud that. World Hero is a pretty hefty title to bear, but he truly deserves to be called that.”_

The Colonel could see that Kinsey still hadn’t gotten it yet, or just wasn’t listening.

_“He’s a little bit of a chatterbox, once you get him talking, an expert in his field who was ridiculed for his wacky theories, but he doesn’t mind at all, because he’s been proven absolutely right. He’s shy, but friendly to everyone he meets, a born diplomat. He loves his people enough that he’s been willing on more than one occasion to lay down his life for them, even though they’d never know it.”  
_

The President’s eyes closed. His head bowed, and for a moment, there were tears in his voice.

_“I can’t tell you what this remarkable man has done. I can’t tell you his name, because he won’t let me. He’s modest, you see. He thinks he’s just a regular guy, just like everybody else. But after having seen for myself the sacrifice he made for the people of Earth, I can tell you he is unlike anyone else I have ever met. He is selfless, honorable, humble, a paragon of virtue. He is, without doubt, the best of us.”_

Jack’s smile faded as he saw the gleam of suspicion dawn in Kinsey’s eyes.

_“Many men and women sacrificed their lives not long ago to fight for our freedom from an alien incursion. We honor all of those who participated in that epic battle. They will soon be celebrated in another ceremony to recognize their courage, along with the aliens who offered to help us. We will be introducing The Unity to humanity in the very near future, and it is our hope that we will one day build a shining new civilization in partnership with them.”  
_

“Things are gonna be changing fast,” Jack predicted. “You haven’t met The Unity yet. You probably won’t like ‘em. They’re  good people.”

“Shut up, Colonel,” Kinsey snapped.

_“But among all the heroes made on that terrible day, there is one among them whose actions prevented the human race from becoming slaves. He alone made the difference between victory and defeat, and it is by his hand that the human race is alive and free today.”  
_

Jack didn’t look away from the old man’s face, mottled red now with leashed rage. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see you right now.”

_“So, people of Earth, I’d like to make this suggestion to you: set aside your time on this one day of the year, and seek out the humble ones. Take notice of the guy with his head in a book, passing you in the hallway and mumbling to himself. Offer him your thanks for the life you’re still living, because one of them saved it, singlehandedly._

_“Somewhere among you, there is a man who has sacrificed the unimaginable, and I believe – every leader in the world believes – that he should be appreciated. Maybe he’s a cop or a soldier. Maybe he’s a doctor or a scholar. Maybe he’s nobody you’ll ever meet. But on this day, the Day of the Unsung Hero, the leaders of Earth would like you to think about heroism. About sacrifice. And about those whose feats of bravery and justice may never be known. Look to the quiet man beside you, and wonder if this is the one whose humility and suffering bought your freedom.”_

Kinsey’s eyes closed, and he bowed his head. “No,” he whispered painfully.

“Yes,” Jack answered with calm certainty. He couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face, didn’t want to stop it. “You know who he’s talking about _now_ , don’t you?”

_“We, the leaders of your world, have signed a declaration to make the 8 th day of July the official celebration of life, of freedom and of gratitude; the day when we thank those whose acts of heroism go unrecognized. Let us treat each other as if the man beside us is the one who saved our lives, when we didn’t even know we were in danger.”_

“Daniel’s birthday is July 8th,” Jack told the prisoner. “What a coincidence!”

Kinsey glared at him, hatred and disgust etched into his lined face. “You son of a bitch,” he snarled.

O’Neill didn’t bother listening to the rest of the address. The important part was over. Kinsey knew whose holiday it was, and why it was on that particular day, and that was all that mattered.

“And I’m gonna make you a promise,” Jack said softly. “I’ll be here waiting the day you get out of jail. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, but first, I’m gonna show you what the Unsung Hero did. I want you to see it with your own eyes.”

Jack’s voice caught. “He said crucifixion was easier than what he went through.”

Kinsey’s eyes snapped to meet his. Surprise and a little horror made his face droop. There was fear in his eyes, and more than a little uncertainty.

O’Neill nodded, silently assuring the other man that Daniel’s experience as the Mandanu had been _far_ worse than what Kinsey had done to him. “He could’ve stopped it, could’ve walked away, but he didn’t. He had to make sure we’d never face a threat from the Goold again. You think about that while you’re in here.”

The old man’s gaze slid to the floor in shame.

“You think about how you almost killed the man who was trying so desperately to save you, Kinsey. And don’t try getting out of our date. I’m gonna make you watch, and I’ll hunt you down if I have to. Consider it the _real_ payment for your crime.”

Kinsey’s watery eyes rolled back up to meet his, silently begging for mercy.

“Sorry, pal. I got no mercy for you, just like you had none for my friend. Enjoy the time you have left in here, because when you see what he did… it’s gonna change how you look at everything.”

A sigh left the old man, and he seemed to shrivel inside the bright orange prison uniform.

Just as Jack turned to leave, another thought struck him and he sat down at the phone again, tapping on the glass till Kinsey picked it up. “One more thing. Don’t apologize to him. Don’t send him letters or show up at his door asking him to forgive you, because I know him well enough to tell you that he already has. That’s just the kind of guy he is, and why nothing you can ever say or do will be enough to make it up to him. Just let it be. Let him never have to think about you again. Give him that small mercy, Kinsey. Deal?”

He didn’t wait for a response as he hung up the phone.

The agreement had been in the man’s bowed head and deflated posture.

Jack hoped Kinsey lived a very long time with his regrets.

O’Neill left the prison with satisfaction in his heart, and prepared for the long trip home.

On the way to his house, he drove around the block first and parked in the Jacksons’ driveway. Shannon showed him in, a basket of laundry on her hip, and nodded him into the study.

The Mandanu sat at the desk in his home office dressed in a U-shirt and beat-up jeans, his sleeping child draped across his shoulder while he stared at the pages of an old book.

“Did you watch the news today, Daniel?” asked O’Neill gaily.

 “No. But I heard about it. Was that your idea, Jack?” The tone of Daniel’s voice reflected his irritation and embarrassment.

“Nope. The President can think for himself,” he assured his friend. “So, whatcha doin’ for your birthday this year?”

Those blue eyes rolled up to his face, and a soft smile touched the corners of Daniel’s mouth. “Apparently, watching the world celebrate some new holiday while I hide in my house. What are you planning to do?”

Jack shrugged. “Watch a few fireworks, maybe a parade. Cook out on the grill. And celebrate my little brother’s birthday, along with everybody else. Kinda makes you feel special doesn’t it, Daniel?”

The sleeping baby stirred slightly and shifted position, turning her head from one cheek to the other on his shoulder.

 _“This_ is what makes me feel special, Jack.” He rubbed the baby’s back gently, soothing her back to sleep with a look of perfect contentment in his eyes. “This is the _only_ thing that really matters, in the end.”

Jack nodded and held out his hands, indicating everything around them. “You know, this whole Stargate thing… it was always _your_ journey, Daniel. I’m just glad I got to go along for the ride.”

Daniel handed over the sleeping baby as he got up to stretch. “It was _our_ journey, Jack. And it’s not over yet. Remember what Cassandra said, when we shot too far forward on our time trip?”

O’Neill grinned, settling Hope onto his shoulder and automatically starting to sway. “Yeah. You’re gonna go _bald!_ Have you told your wife yet?”

Daniel pouted. “Damn it, Jack…”

“Hey, that’s _my_ line. Only you screwed it up. It’s supposed to be ‘Damn it, _Daniel.’_ Get it right next time.”

“I guess I should tell her, huh?” Daniel scowled as he propped his butt against the desk and crossed his arms. “She _really_ likes my hair.”

He stroked his hand across the back of his head, concern etched into his face.

“Maybe you could use that healing device to bring it back.”

“I’m not that vain, thanks.” Daniel pondered. “Maybe if I just cut it short? Maybe that’s what Cassie meant. Ya think?”

Jack grinned and kissed the baby on her soft cheek. “Works for me! I’ll drive you to the barber.”

FIN


End file.
